Wedding Bell Blues
by feebee17
Summary: A  requested  sequel to The One Night Stand. It's 3 weeks to their wedding, and both Millie and Max are having doubts. Do they really love each other, or are they just marrying because, now they have a son, it seems like the right thing to do...
1. Three Weeks Before the Wedding

**BTW, I still don't own The Bill.**

(i)

Millie stood at the counter preparing dinner for herself and her son Thomas. No Max this evening. He had called to say he had to work well into the night, most likely until after Millie had gone to bed. Millie felt sorry for him. She knew how much he hated spending even a single day without seeing his son. The despondent look on Thomas's face as he glanced up every now and then at the door from which his father usually appeared told her that the boy hated missing the father / son bonding time just as much as Max did. Now she felt bad for both of them. Being ever the pacifier, Millie decided to try to alleviate some of her boys' mutual suffering by uniting them briefly via the telephone.

She picked up the handset and walked around the counter as she dialed Max's work number. The phone was answered quickly, but not by Max.

"DS Moss speaking."

"Stevie. Hi, it's Millie."

"Hey, Millie… how's it going?" replied Stevie.

Was Millie mistaken, or was Stevie sounding slightly uncomfortable talking to her?

"Fine thanks. Max not there?"

"Not at the moment, sorry. He's at a briefing. It's been a really busy day."

"I gathered as much. It's not every day that Max has to work back so late."

Stevie made an audible gulping sound. Now Millie knew something was up.

"Stevie," said Millie. "Is there something I should know?" She tried to ignore the voice in her head that whispered _Max is having an affair, _as she waited for Stevie to reply.

Stevie was torn. Max was a workmate, and although she may not have chosen him as a friend, this connection demanded a degree of loyalty and trust. But then again, she was fond of Millie, and didn't like to see her lied to.

Stevie decided to strike a blow for female solidarity.

"Millie," she said, after taking a deep breath, "If Max told you he had to work late tonight, he was lying. The truth is, the boys here are taking him out for a Stag night."

Millie went silent. Silent with rage. She had never insisted Max not have a Stag night. In fact they had discussed whether or not they would follow what they both called an outmoded ritual, and Max had insisted he had absolutely no interest in having one whatsoever. She had taken him at his word and thought no more of it. And now she was discovering that perhaps he did want a night out after all, just not one she knew about. Why? What did he want to get up to without telling her? She told herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. There was the possibility that Max could have been forced into this by his workmates. But then again, why cover that up? There was no getting past that he'd out and out lied to her.

Stevie couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Millie, you still there?"

Stevie's voice brought Millie back down to earth, "Sorry Stevie, it's just a.. shock, that's all."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't lie!"

"Really, don't be sorry. I appreciate you telling me. It's Max I'm angry at!"

"Of course you are. But look Millie, I know he loves you and I'm sure he had his reasons…"

"For blatantly lying? For leaving me at home to look after his son, who's wondering where his beloved Daddy is? Oh, I'm sure he has!"

Stevie was beginning to wish she'd stayed well and truly out of it.

"Do you want me to get Max to ring you then?" she asked.

"No thanks, I'd be too mad to speak. And, could you not mention to him that I rang?"

"OK. I'll pretend our conversation never happened and you don't know anything about tonight."

"Thanks Stevie. Say, do you know who organised this for Max?"

Stevie knew the answer she gave would indicate to Millie whether or not the night would involve a stripper. And the answer she was about to give meant a resounding 'yes'. "Callum and Nate, I believe."

Millie frowned. "OK. I'll speak to you later Stevie."

"Bye Millie."

Millie put down the phone and thought about how much she'd love to be strangling Max right about now...

Thomas came up beside her and took her hand. Millie smiled at him as he tugged it to indicated he wanted her to follow. What could she do? There was no reason to visit the sins of the father onto the son. She let herself be led out of the kitchen and faked an interest as Thomas pushed his toy cars across the polished floor of his play room.

Millie found to her shame that she just couldn't concentrate on Thomas. God, she was angry at Max! Angry, and hurt. And what hurt most of all was that if he had asked if he could have a night out before they got married, she would have said yes. She would have organised a Hen's night too, because she did so enjoy a night out with her friends and had actually hoped to have one. Instead she had forgone it in fairness to Max.

Millie glanced up at the clock. She knew that she would go insane if she had to sit there alone tonight, wondering what Max was up to. She needed something to take her mind off it. A plan started to form in her head. It was now only five at night. Still early enough to take Thomas to his grandmother's for an overnight stay. Mrs. Carter would love it. It was still early enough to organised a few drinks and nibbles. Perhaps it was still early enough to round up a few girl friends…

Millie retrieved the phone from the bench and hit the redial button.

"DS Moss speaking."

"Stevie? It's Millie again. Say, are you doing anything tonight?"

Stevie started to smile. "No. Why?"

"It just occurred to me that perhaps I might have a few friends over for drinks myself. What do you say? And maybe see what Jo, Mel and Grace are doing as well."

Stevie cradled the phone on her shoulder as she tapped out a quick email to the girls. "Will do," she said, as she hit the 'send' button.

"Great. Look, I'll just contact a few other people and get back to you. How does 730 sound?"

"Sounds good to me. Oop, looks like Jo's up for it."

"Even if it's only the three of us, that's something. I'll call you back soon. And thanks Stevie."

"Pleased to be of service. Talk to you soon." Stevie hung up the phone and grinned. Her grinned broadened as she watched Max and Grace entering the room. She glanced over to Grace's desk and waited until Grace looked up and cast a sly smile, followed by a nod over in her direction.

Max was completely oblivious to the female networking going on around him.

Millie had hung up from Stevie and got straight onto the person she knew would turn her impromptu Hen's night from a coffee with a couple of friends into a party to remember.

"Hello."

"Mag? It's me, Millie."

"Millie, how are you?"

"How am I? Angry at your brother!"

Mag rolled her eyes, "Well, I must say the fact that you get on well with him most of the time is more of a surprise to me. What's he done? Anything particularly bad?"

"I'll let you judge. He told me that he was working late tonight when in fact he's having a Stag Night."

Mag groaned, "It doesn't get much worse than that, does it?"

"No," agreed Millie.

"Are you going to forgive him?"

"Maybe. But first I'm going to get even."

Mag was intrigued. "How so?"

"I thought I'd have a bit of party for myself tonight. Or at least, I hoped my Matron of Honour might agree to organise one for me…"

"She would be thrilled to! I'll give Johanna a call. Oh, and mum can babysit. Luckily dinner's prepared here, and Paul's home and can take care of the kids."

"Thanks Mag, I appreciate it. Now, I'll just ring up a few more people, and we're set to go! See you in an hour or so."

"See you then Millie."

Mag hung up the phone, excited at the prospect of an unexpected opportunity for a night out of the house - and a chance to teach her spoilt little brother a lesson!

(ii)

Stevie sat at her desk trying to look nonchalant as the boys in CID started to gather with their uniform counterparts for their night on the town. Soon Terry, Mickey and Bansky had escorted Max downstairs and the office seemed strangely quiet. She could hear Neil Manson's voice coming from his office as he and Grace discussed a case. Stevie had heard that Neil had turned down the invitation to Max's Stag night as a matter of principle, and she kind of admired that. Not every man would so readily admit that they found the 'anything goes' nature of these nights distasteful.

Jo Masters made her way through the door into CID, accompanied by PC Roger Valentine.

"Roger, why are you still here?" asked Stevie. "Not going out with Max?"

"I'm too old for that sort of thing, Stevie," said Roger. "And apart from that, as Millie asked me to give her away at her wedding in place of her late father, it didn't feel right encouraging my future 'son-in-law' to get blind drunk and fondle strippers, if you know what I mean."

"I see what you're saying," replied Stevie.

"Say, Rodge," interjected Jo. "Didn't you get on rather friendly terms with Millie's mother at Thomas's Christening?"

Roger rolled his eyes, "You could say that, but I might add it was unwillingly."

Stevie grinned, "So, have you been spending any special bonding time with the lovely Mrs. Brown in the lead up to the wedding?"

"Actually, she has called me and offered!" said Roger. "But, well, you know…"

"I sure do," laughed Jo. She turned her attention to Stevie. "Something on your mind, Luv?"

"Well, yeah. This whole Max not telling Millie about the Stag night has made me angry. So I was thinking, wouldn't it be good if we could organise a special guest for Millie's party?"

Jo raised an eyebrow. "A special naked male guest you mean?" she asked. She pictured Max's reaction to finding out about this. "Excellent idea. But, I think we may have left it a bit late."

"Come on Jo," said Roger. "What about that snout of yours, the one who runs that male revue club. Doesn't he owe you a favour?"

Stevie's face lit up as she looked expectantly at Jo.

"Hmm, let me see what I can do. But Roger, aren't you showing a bit of double standard here? No stripper for the son-in-law, but a stripper for the daughter?"

"Ah," said Roger, as he made his way towards to doors, "but she's not actually my daughter, is she? Anyway, it's just a suggestion!" he called back as the doors closed behind him.

Stevie looked at Jo. "Well, what are you waiting for? Call in that favour!"

Jo laughed and made the phone call.


	2. The Stag and The Hen

(i)

Max Carter had spent the first three and a half decades of his life saying he would never never never never never ever marry or have children. He said this repeatedly to his family, and to anyone else who tried to raise the issue with him. His sisters would laugh and ask him if this meant his conviction would fail him once the fifth 'never' had passed, but in their hearts his stubbornness in regard to this worried them. Having been his emotional support and protectors for all his life, they worried because they knew he didn't realise just how reliant on family he actually was. They worried this ignorance would render him a child forever. And then his mother worried because his single status was almost an embarrassment to her, as marriage was, well, The Done Thing! It wasn't as if she hadn't patiently given him long enough to sow his oats! She reminded him that he was selfishly depriving her of the several grandchildren it was his duty to produce. He was his father's only son and therefore it was up to him to carry on the family name.

And then had come the day that Max had discovered he already had a family, of sorts, in the form of a son, Thomas, and Millie, with whom he had had a one night stand. He found that once family was thrust upon him, it wasn't as bad as he thought. He adored Thomas and felt instantly bonded from the moment he laid eyes on him. He found that the relationship created by co-parenting a child with Millie was not as suffocating or scary as he had always feared a monogamous, committed relationship would be. He realised he truly desired and loved Millie, and was quite comfortable with the notion of having her company throughout the rest of his life.

Most of the time, and especially when he was with Millie and Thomas, he was entirely happy. He believed they completed his life, and life with them was what he wanted.

But, he still had occasional moments of doubt. And this was well and truly one of them…

Max was looking into the dewy blue eyes of the curvaceous blonde who was seated straddling his thighs. He could so see himself riding this little pony home! He thought to himself that she was actually rather pretty. Unlike a lot of strippers he'd seen, she didn't have a hardened, over made-up look, and stood up to a scrutiny even this close with flying colours. He watched her looking back at him and knew that all he had to do was say the word, and she'd willingly be his tonight.

Mickey Webb turned to Terry Perkins and Dale Smith and said, "Should we be stopping Max from doing something he might regret here?"

Smithy shrugged, "It's his last night of freedom. Perhaps we should just let him enjoy it? Thought I must say, I do feel bad for Millie…"

"Hmm, well, you can understand the temptation This girl's a cute little thing," said Terry admiringly. He had had a few beers, and was prepared to give even Max the benefit of the doubt as a consequence.

"Come off it Terry!" retorted Mickey. "He's nearly twice her age!"

Terry continued, "Even so..."

"She'd be about the age of your daughter, hey Terry?" interrupted Nate. He wasn't being facetious, just voicing a thought that had popped into his head.

Terry spluttered on his beer. "Eh? She's nothing like my daughter! Anyway, Holly would never do something like this. She's at university!"

"Probably this girl is too," continued Nate. "She's might be just doing this to pay her way. Lots of them do you know."

Terry hurriedly gulped down his beer. "Woo, look at the time! I'd better be going home!" He gathered his keys and phone and nodded goodbye to those assembled.

It escaped no one's attention that he was on his phone before he was out the door.

Everyone at the table laughed, not just because of Terry's reaction, but because it was obvious that Nate was sitting there in blissful ignorance of the fact that he had been the cause of Terry's sudden departure.

The diversion created by Terry meant that no one was thinking about Max anymore. So he sat and continued to look up at the stripper in his lap. He realised that without being conscious of it he had placed a hand on each of her thighs, as if gently pushing them apart. She started to move in closer to him, but instinct told him the right thing to do was to back slightly away from her. Instead of being able to claim this as a moral victory, he found it just gave him an opportunity to examine her undeniably appealing form more closely. Not too skinny, which he liked, but absolutely no fat in places where it shouldn't be. His eyes moved from her face to the breasts only inches away from his face. This girl was what you would call a natural beauty, but there was no doubt those breasts were fake. He didn't have any particular viewpoint on breast enhancement, but up close these ones seemed somehow stretched to their limit. They were so pumped up, he thought, they almost looked painful!

The whole 'painful breasts' thing led Max's train of thought to a memory of Millie breastfeeding his infant son. He remembered how swollen and uncomfortable lactating had made her feel, and how the first time they had slept together after Thomas's birth, she had leaked breast milk all over him. A fond smile came to his lips as he thought about it. Forgetting all about the girl currently sitting on top of him, he wondered to himself what Millie and Thomas were doing at home right now. Thomas would have been bathed and put to bed. Millie would be tidying things up and making her way alone to their empty bed. Max glanced at his watch and saw it was ten o'clock. Late enough for a night out he'd only agreed to under protest. It was time to go home.

Max smiled apologetically to the girl and gently pushed her off him. Then he stood up and walked away. The girl looked slightly disappointed, as she had been very attracted to Max, but she seemed to take it in her stride. As he went around the room saying his good byes, she had already moved on to chatting up Callum Stone…

(ii)

As the Sun Hill contingent of guests walked to the gate of Max and Millie's house, they encountered the two familiar forms of Sally Armstrong and Beth Green, both of whom Millie must have invited. Hellos and kisses were exchanged. Everyone felt there was a lot of catching up to do, but they were all too preoccupied with getting their private opinions on Max and Millie's nuptials out of the way before they were within earshot of either Millie or Max's family.

"Well, well," said Jo, clucking her tongue. "This is a nice place they've got here!"

"I think it's Max's," said Stevie.

"Makes sense. Middle-aged career policeman, bachelor, lives for his job - what else would he have to spend his money on?" said Grace

"It takes one to know one, eh Grace?" said Jo nudging her, well aware that the same could be said about both of them.

"The house is all well and good, but, honestly, does anyone think Millie's doing the right thing? I mean…Max?" said Sally, who would actually have been right in presuming that most people shared her view on this.

"Oh Max isn't so bad," said Beth. "He's all right if you just let him know you don't take him too seriously."

Grace looked over at the young officer and was reminded how despite the fact she gave the impression of being young and ditzy, she was also incredibly insightful.

"I'm sure you're right, Beth," she conceded.

"Well anyway, once Thomas appeared on the scene I think it was Max who wanted a relationship, wasn't it?" asked Jo.

"From what happened at the Baptism, that's the impression I got, isn't that right Mel?" replied Stevie.

"Oh yeah," agreed Mel. "I'll never forget how Max raced across the room when he saw Will Fletcher chatting up Millie!"

Everyone laughed.

"Well, here we are. Lead the way Stevie," said Jo, unlatching the gate and guiding everyone through.

They walked up the path and Stevie rang the door bell. Mag soon appeared to let them in.

"Hello everyone!" said Mag. She nodded at Stevie, whom she had met at Thomas's Baptism and with whom she had spoken on the phone earlier in the evening. "So," she asked quietly, "did you manage to organise the surprise we discussed?"

"I did," smiled Stevie. "Or rather, Jo called in a favour."

Jo reached out her hand to Mag and the two women nodded to each other.

"One young, built, apparently gorgeous young man will be joining us later. Oh, and he'll be wearing a uniform!"

"Oh, excellent!" said Mag excitedly. "I can't wait! And not just for Millie's sake, let me tell you!"

Mag ushered the guests into the living room where Millie sat with Max's older sister, Johanna, and a couple of friends of hers from outside Sun Hill.

The evening progressed with much eating, drinking, chatter and laughter. Everyone was impressed with the way Max's sisters had managed to throw together a delicious array of snacks in such a short amount of time. The drinks went quickly to Millie's head, but she felt so relaxed and supported in the company of her women friends, she almost completely forgot about her anger at Max and was able to really enjoy herself.

The chatter and the music became louder, and everyone's behaviour became less inhibited and slightly more outrageous. They all laughed at Max's sisters' stories about their family (they were too loyal to their brother to single him out). The sisters laughed in their turn at stories about the goings on at Sun Hill. Millie's eyes shone as she happily thought to herself that she couldn't have imagined a better way to celebrate her Hen's night.

At about 930, there was a knock on the door.

"Oh God, Millie," said Mag. "This time I'm too drunk to get up. Do you think you could answer that?"

"Sure!" said Millie, a tad overenthusiastically. She got up from her seat, with a bit more difficulty than she had anticipated, but Sally and Beth managed to reach out and steady her to prevent her falling over. She walked through the door into the passageway.

All her guests remained in the sitting room and looked at each other knowingly.

Millie opened the front door to behold a police officer standing there. She looked him up and down and tried to work out if she recognised him from either Sun Hill or Barton St. She didn't. But he was certainly worth the looking over! _He's hot,_ she thought. Why didn't more of her colleagues look this good?

"Can I help you, officer?" she asked, holding onto the doorpost to stop herself (or the room) from swaying.

"Sorry to disturb you Ma'am, but we've had a few complaints about the noise," the officer said.

"Really?" Millie was surprised. She honestly didn't think they were being that loud, and she'd always thought that the brick walls of their house were pretty much soundproof.

"And we have reason to believe that, even as we speak, a crime's being committed."

Millie was puzzled. She looked at the officer more closely. There was something odd about the way he looked. Was it his uniform?

_Hang on a minute!_ she thought to herself. _Our uniforms aren't usually held on with Velcro!_

"What crime?" she said. She knew this man wasn't a real policeman, but she hadn't quite worked out what his game was.

The young man took a step towards her, as Millie instinctively took a step back. They matched each other step for step, until Millie had found she'd back herself into a wall.

She hadn't noticed her friends were now gathered in the hallway, watching the whole proceedings and trying not to laugh.

"The crime," said the young man who, once he had Millie cornered, was slowly dragging his truncheon down the front of her blouse, "is that there's a beautiful young lady being taken off the market, and no one's given her a proper send off. If you know what I mean."

Millie was left speechless as the man punctuated each word of his last sentence by thrusting his hips at her.

"But it's OK. I'm on the case now," he said, before he scooped Millie up in his arms and carried her through her clapping and laughing friends (one or two of whom sneaked in a grope as he passed them) and back into the sitting room.

Someone had placed a chair in the middle of the room. The man put Millie onto it, drew her hands behind her back and handcuffed her.

To much cheering and whistling (and the odd illicit feel), he showed Millie and the others assembled what the Velcro on his uniform was actually for…

Soon all he was wearing was a g-string and his hat.

He gestured for the music to be turned down and he moved purposefully closer to Millie. Once again he ran his truncheon over her body. He ran it along her arm from her wrist to her shoulder. He brought it back down caressingly along the arm's underside. Millie found herself shivering at the lightness of his touch. He knelt in front of her and ran the truncheon along the inner part of her legs, darting it for the briefest moment under her skirt. Millie hoped her face didn't betray the dizzy thrill she was getting from feeling completely at the mercy of his whims.

He put his hands on her thighs and pulled himself to standing position between her legs. He hooked his truncheon into the low cut front of her blouse and licked his lips as he examined what it contained.

Millie sat obediently, quietly exhilarated by not quite being able to anticipate what his next move would be.

He stopped and pulled an envelope out of the brim of his hat. He stroked it between his fingers.

"Your friends have got together and organised a little something for you." He held the envelope towards her. "Do you want it?"

Millie nodded and leant forward in her chair. He snatched the envelope away.

"No, you know what, I think you're going to have to work a little harder than that to get it." He slid the envelope down the front of his g-string and smiled.

"Come and get it," he said, moving himself closer to her.

Millie was still handcuffed to her chair, and realised she had no choice but to remove the envelope from his g-string with her teeth.

The room was suddenly filled with whooping and screams of excitement. Everyone, even Mag and Johanna, was egging Millie on. Millie decided she might as well give her friends what they wanted. After all, it kind of looked like fun. She leant her body forward and moved towards the young man's crotch. She opened her mouth, ready to receive her present.

Just as she had clenched the envelope between her teeth she realised that Max had entered the room and was standing speechless at the view of his fiancée handcuffed to a chair with her open mouth milimetres away from the budging pouch worn by some very underdressed but rather over-muscled male stranger…


	3. Max & His Sisters

Millie turned towards Max, the envelope still clenched between her teeth. When she saw the look on his face she let the envelope fall to the ground.

She was mortified. She had wanted to get back at Max, but not like this.

To say Max was angry wouldn't be half of it. He was completely livid. To think that Millie could behave like this, in their (his!) own house, in front of just about everyone they knew, including his own sisters!

This was so in contrast to the scene of domesticity he had expected to come home to when he left the Stag night. He expected a sleeping toddler, sucking contently on his thumb. He expected a devoted, loving, negligee-wearing lover in his bed, whose drowsy passions he could arouse almost before she was conscious of it with a few gentle kisses and whispered longings. Instead he had been greeted by his (almost) wife involved in some sort of bondage scenario with an oiled-up, stripped-down hunk in a room full of cheering onlookers. To his ears, they might as well have been chanting "Dump Max, Dump Max…"

Everyone in the room was watching them both and waiting. Very unfairly, everyone's sympathies were entirely with Millie. Max's reputation amongst his workmates as a bully had preceded him, and no one believed his demeanour was likely to change at home. They took the expression on his face right now as confirmation of their assumption.

Stevie, who had instigated this whole stripper business, was feeling slightly guilty. Even so, she couldn't help thinking that Max looked for all the world like an angry cartoon bull. She could swear there was smoke coming out his nostrils!

Along with the others, Max's sisters waited and watched. To the casual observer it might appear that all of the women in Max's family were basically cut from the same cloth. This however, was not the case. Max's oldest sister, Johanna, actually had a lot more in common personality-wise with her introverted father than she did with her outgoing mother and sister. In fact, their lack of self-consciousness was often an embarrassment to her. Johanna really hated any member of her family making a scene. And right now, in front of all his and Millie's work colleagues, her brother was on the verge of making what would probably be a pretty spectacular one. And in the process he might even deeply hurt the soon-to-be sister-in-law of whom Johanna had grown particularly fond.

Being ten years Max's senior, she had witnessed his tantrums from toddlerdom until the present day and was an expert at dealing with them. Max in general chose Mag as his confidante, but Johanna was like a second (more sensible) mother to him and he respected and heeded her words more than those of any other member of his family. Johanna knew it was up to her to act right now to diffuse this volatile situation.

Max had just opened his mouth to speak when he was distracted by his sister's calmly authorative tones.

"So Maxie," she asked softly. "Was there a stripper at your Stag night?"

Max scowled and his mouth snapped shut. The moral high ground he was about to take had just been effectively snatched from under him.

He had no choice but to answer his sister. "Yes, Johanna, there was." Pausing as the immediacy of his fury ebbed away, he added. "Anyway, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just go and do…whatever, and I suppose I'll see you when you're ready, Millie…" this he said without looking at her, as that would have just enflamed his anger. "Good night everyone."

A disjointed chorus of "Good nights" was heard in response to his. As Max left the room, everyone's attention returned to Millie and the stripper. Though it had to be said that this time no one's heart was really in it.

"Well," the young man said to Millie. "You won your present fair and square. I suppose I should uncuff you."

"Thanks," said Millie meekly.

The stripper thought to himself that this was one of those times he wouldn't have minded if his victim had got a bit carried away. Obviously she was a sweet girl, with the misfortune of having a fiancé who seemed a bit of a bastard. He thought he'd like to have a crack at making her feel better.

To undo the cuffs, the stripper knelt again in front of Millie and reached his arms around her. This brought him face to face with her. With a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure that hubby had well and truly left, he kissed her on the lips.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," he smiled as he stood up. "Anyway, if things don't work out with lover boy…" He picked up the jacket of his uniform and pulled out a card, "you know where to find me."

"Thanks," Millie repeated. Any appeal he may have had to her was fading fast. She just wanted him out of her house as soon as possible.

While the stripper prepared to leave and everyone else started to help tidy up with the view to doing the same, Max had made his way down the darkened hallway to the area of the house where the bedrooms were. He was disappointed to see Thomas's cot was empty, but having also seen what the boy's mother was up to in the other room, Max reasoned this just might be for the best.

Max then made his way into his and Millie's room and sat on the bed to think about all that had happened tonight. How did Johanna know he had been tempted to stray? Tempted mind you! Millie had (in his opinion) been more than tempted. Here they both were, lusting after other people, when in three weeks' time they were supposed to be committing to each other for life. Were they really doing the right thing?

His thoughts were disturbed by a knock on the door. He resented the intrusion, largely because he thought it was Millie and didn't want to deal with her. But after a few seconds he told whoever it was to come in. It was his older sister.

"Maxie?" said Johanna, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it beside her brother. She took his hand in hers.

Max turned to face her. "I know you had to stop me yelling at Millie in front of everyone, and I thank you for it, but don't dare try and tell me I was overreacting!" he said.

Johanna looked at him sympathetically. Most people would think that Max was just possessive and angry, but she knew, on this occasion especially, he had been really hurt. "No, I'm not going to say any such thing. If I'd found Malcolm in that position…" Johanna couldn't express how she'd react to seeing her husband like that. "I don't approve of Stag and Hen nights, and I don't approve of strippers. But remember, Millie didn't organise this one and she'd had a bit to drink, and well, we were all encouraging her."

"Oh, I could see that. Even my own sisters! I know most people think I'm not worthy of Millie, but I didn't expect that from you especially!"

"OK, I admit we got carried away. But you must realise Millie probably wouldn't have been so susceptible if you hadn't lied to her about the Stag night. Why did you do that, by the way? It made her think you were up to something. And after what happened the week before Thomas's Baptism, you can't blame her for that."

Max was annoyed to be reminded of his near indiscretion with his sometime bed partner, Sonia. He skipped over that. He just mumbled, "I don't know. It was just easier than explaining why I would change my mind. And anyway, the guys at work had it all organised and I felt I couldn't say no. But to be honest, I really didn't want to be exposed to that kind of temptation."

"Temptation? Cute stripper eh?"

Max recalled the girl with obvious pleasure. "She was rather, actually."

Johanna became concerned. "Maxie, you didn't sleep with her, did you?"

It wasn't in Max's nature to lie to his sister. "It was an option and I considered it, but, no I didn't ," he admitted.

This response wasn't quite satisfactory, but at least Johanna's worst fears weren't realised. "Well I guess we can thank God then that you stopped yourself in time."

"God had nothing to do with it. Actually, I thought of Millie and Thomas. I realised I just wanted to get home to them." Max said bitterly.

Johanna hugged him. "Has my little brother finally grown up, eh?"

"I find that highly unlikely!" came a voice from the hallway.

Max and Johanna looked up to see their sister Mag entering the room carrying a bottle and three glasses.

Mag sat on the bed and handed each of her siblings a glass. "I figured it's been a while since the Carter children had sat down to have a drink together," she said.

"Mag," protested Max. "It was last Sunday at Mum and Dad's!"

Mag made a face, "OK, it's been a while since the three of us have had drink together in your bedroom, Maxie. Is that more accurate?"

"It is, but you know, this is actually the only time!" said Max. "and it's never happening again!"

Mag regarded her grumpy brother and was overcome with nostalgia.

"Remember, Maxie, when you were little? You used to come in our room when you were scared or upset and we'd both hop into Johanna's bed and she and I would cuddle you until you weren't scared any more? Remember, Joh?"

Johanna pinched her brother's cheeks, "In his little flannelette pyjamas, clutching his teddy bear!"

Max hoped no one from Sun Hill was lingering around the bedroom door listening. Or Millie, for that matter.

"Whatever happened to that teddy?" Mag wondered.

Johanna shrugged, "Mum's probably still got it somewhere."

Max thought his sisters should know better than to think their mother could be trusted with such a precious item. But he kept silent about the fact his beloved bear was safely stored in a box his garrett that he hoped not even Millie had ever looked into.

A drunken Mag started to lie back on the bed and said sleepily, "Perhaps we should try that remedy on poor Maxie now?"

Much to Max's horror, his sister put her arms around him as she lay down. He couldn't help but feel there was something unwholesome about holding his sister on his marital bed.

"Mag, what the heck are you doing? Just how drunk are you?" Max prayed one of his work colleagues wasn't lurking somewhere with a camera.

"She has had quite a bit, maybe she's further gone than I thought," said Johanna, who was no more keen to reenact their happy childhood bed-sharing than her brother. "I probably should get her home."

"I'm fine, Joh, I'll just lie down here a while…"

"No, Mag, I think it's time you left. You're starting to creep me out," said Max as he gently took by her arm and pulled her off his bed.

"OK, all right, you two. Leave me with my dignity please. I don't need to be carried!" Mag stood up and straightened herself up in Max's mirror.

"If you don't mind, I'll just say goodbye to you here," said Max kissing Mag and then Johanna.

"See you and Millie at Mum's on Sunday?" said Johanna, who still wasn't confident everything was OK.

"We'll see. Probably," said Max, not wanting to discuss things further.

"Don't be too hard on her, hey?" Johanna said as she led Mag out of the room. "I really think you two belong together."

Max smiled and shut the door after them. He wished he could be that sure.

Just before Johanna and Mag had left the bedroom, the final non-family guests had left. They congregated in the street outside Max and Millie's house.

Grace looked back at the house, "I wonder how Millie and Max will go once they're alone," she said.

"Well, whatever happens, we certainly gave Millie a night to remember!" Jo commented. "I'll be interested to hear what happened with the stripper at the Stag night too."

"We can ask the boys next week," said Stevie. "But hey, next time I tell you to line up a stripper for someone, slap me, will you?"

"I might," agreed Jo. "But who knows, maybe it's best to get these issues out of the way before the wedding?"

"Maybe not so publicly perhaps," observed Grace. "That must have been a pretty devastating scene for Max to walk in on."

"Tell you what though, I wish his sister worked at Sun Hill. Imagine all the time we could save if we had someone on hand to control Max when he's being a prat!" said Jo.

They all laughed and made their way towards the taxi that had just pulled up in front of the house.


	4. Forgiveness?

After everyone had gone and the house had been tidied up, Millie began the dreaded journey towards the bedroom to finally face Max alone. She was not expecting a positive reception.

She walked into the room to find Max sitting on the bed, reading. At least he had started to read when he had heard her footsteps coming down the hall. Before that he had been sitting there frowning, deep in thought.

When she entered the room, Max refused to look up to acknowledge her presence. _This isn't a good start_, she thought to herself. She bravely walked over to the bed and sat beside him.

"Max?" she said softly.

"Hmm?" he replied, without moving his eyes from the page he was pretending to read.

Millie had expected more of a reaction than this, and she was slightly put off. But she determined to press on.

"Max, I'm sorry about before," she said.

"Sorry you were caught?" Max said calmly, still without so much as glancing up from his page.

Millie resolutely continued, "Sorry you were upset. I know I got carried away, but it wasn't as bad as it looked. You know I would never have done anything…"

At this Max looked for her and raised his eye brow as if to say, "Do I?" before turning his attention back to his book.

Millie reached and took hold of his arm. She was beginning to get annoyed. "Come on Max, you do know that! Anything I did was just in the spirit of a Hen's night. It was completely harmless."

"Harmless, you call it?" said Max hotly. That was it, he couldn't pretend to ignore her anymore. "Don't give me that! I saw you! You were practically sucking his cock!"

Millie became indignant at his accusation. "What? I was not! All I did was grab the envelope with my teeth! I had no choice, I was handcuffed!"

This little reminder did nothing to appease Max, "Oh! How convenient. 'I had to take his dick in my mouth because I was handcuffed!' The perfect excuse!"

"Excuse me, but I had nothing in my mouth but an envelope!"

"I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't walked in though? How far would you have gone then?"

Millie looked at Max incredulously. "Hey, do you think I'm in the habit of publicly fellating people? Are you kidding me? With your sisters there and everything? Actually, you know, I wouldn't even have sex with you after we're married in the presence of an audience, let alone publicly perform oral sex on strangers!"

Max was still upset and angry, but he knew accusing her of exhibitionism was probably taking things a bit too far. It was probably time to stop with the melodramatics and tell it like it was.

"All right then, how would you feel if you put yourself in my place? You come home happily intending to gaze on your sleeping son before making love with his gorgeous mother, when you're greeted with a room full of friends cheering as your lover is cuffed in a chair wearing her 'blow job face' while some guy pokes his crotch at her. How would that make you feel?"

Millie frowned. "I don't have a 'blow job face'!" she retorted.

Max treated her to an impression of it. It occurred to her it was a particularly convincing impression. For a moment it made her wonder where he had learnt to mimic this action so accurately, but mainly it made her think how stupid it must make her look.

"Eww, do I look that bad? I'm never doing that again!"

Alarm bells starting sounding in Max's head. Perhaps all the things he'd ever heard about the dangers of turning girlfriend into wife were true? He pictured a future in which their affectionately playful sexual adventures were replaced by a lifetime of predictable, perfunctory sex.

"Oh great, so not only do I catch you on the verge of being unfaithful to me, now you're announcing you'll be denying me sexual favours? I would have thought you'd be doing whatever it takes to save our relationship, but apparently not!" He pointedly turned his attention back to his book.

Millie could see Max's accusations were getting more and more ridiculous. All they were doing was going around in circles arguing about her Hen's night escapade. And anyway, despite her own feelings of guilt, she was still angry at Max. He was, after all, the one who had lied in the first place. It was time to turn the tables.

"Well anyway, how was your night? I suppose _you_ didn't go anywhere near your stripper then?"

Max made no comment, so Millie went on. "So, was she attractive?"

Max would have loved to have kept on examining Millie's transgressions, but he knew when he was cornered.

"She was OK," he said with a shrug.

"Did you touch her? Did she smooch up to you?"

Max knew his own behaviour was far from blameless. He made one last effort to deflect any guilt from himself.

"She did what you'd expect a stripper to do. Of course, she didn't open her legs and invite me to remove my 'present' from anywhere inappropriate."

Millie gave a sarcastic laugh. "Well, what a relief! Did she sit on your lap?"

Max looked guilty. "Yes," he admitted.

"Facing you with her legs around you?" Really, she would be annoyed whichever way he said. But facing him and being able to look into his eyes seemed worse somehow.

Max didn't respond to this, which only served to make Millie confident that the answer was yes.

"I see," she said, getting off the bed and leaving the room. She knew that they had both misbehaved that night, but Max's vagueness about the whole thing only led her to presume he was ashamed of how far he had gone.

Max sat on the bed and heaved a sigh of exasperation. He was hurt, but so was Millie. There was really no point in each blaming the other when they had both suffered. When it all boiled down to it, he knew he loved her, and there was Thomas to consider. He got up to find her.

Millie was sitting in Thomas's room, holding a picture of the three of them together taken when Max was only new on the scene. They were still getting to know each other, which you could see from the slight awkwardness with which Max had his arm around her. Nevertheless, Millie remembered, they both had had high hopes for their future together. What had gone wrong since then? They had got through the incident with Sonia and their bond had been stronger for it. Formalising their commitment by living together as a family had also seemed to make them closer. Surely one night when each of them had done no more than most other people would do on their last night of 'freedom' couldn't end things between them? Could it?

No, Millie decided. She wasn't going to let it.

Before she could get up to make her way back to their room, Max came through the door. She could see by his face that he too was feeling contrite. Without a word, she stood up and they both reached out their arms for each other. After an embrace that was unbroken for a good minute or so, they turned to face each other and kissed.

Max was the first to speak, "You already said it, so now it's my turn - I'm sorry."

Millie hugged him tightly, "Thank you," she said.

Max took her face in both his hands and, tilting her head, looked into her eyes. "Let's draw a line under this one for the moment hey?"

"Good idea," agreed Millie. "You know," she said significantly, "this is the first night we have spent alone together in this house."

"You're right," said Max, smiling as his mind conjured up certain possibilities . "We should make the most of it. What shall we do?"

"Household accounts?" suggested Millie teasingly.

Max smacked her bottom. "I have a few better suggestions," he said, tracing her hairline gently with his lips.

"Such as?" said Millie, .

"Well, I think there are many surfaces on this house that we haven't had sex on yet," he said.

"You're not looking at any in this room I hope?"

"No, let's leave Thomas's room sex-free."

"I'm glad you think that. Say, why don't we light a fire and watch a movie or something while finishing off a few leftovers from tonight?"

The idea of watching a movie undisturbed by a screaming toddler was appealing, but this wasn't the kind of 'alone time' Max had in mind. He felt a bit disappointed.

Millie hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and pulled his hips towards her own. "Of course," she said coyly, "while we're watching the movie we'll be lying naked together on the couch, fulfilling whatever physical cravings we may have, whether they be for food or for each other."

Max smiled, "Now you're talking."

He took Millie by the hand and the two of them returned to their sitting room. Max lit the fire while Millie organised food, drinks and a quilt. Once they had both completed their set tasks, they met by the sofa. Max reached his arms around Millie and took hold of the zip of her skirt. He brought it down gradually, then slid his hands into the skirt's waistband and loosened it from her hips until the skirt fell to floor around her ankles. Max paused to appreciate the way her long bare legs tapered down into a sexy, strappy pair of high heels. Then both sets of hands set to work unbuttoning the other's shirt. Millie's had fewer buttons, so it didn't take Max long to remove it to reveal the rose-coloured push-up bra Millie had chosen to augment her cleavage in her low-cut blouse. He stoically suppressed the thought that she had chosen this bra for a night from which she had expected him to be absent, and planted delicate, teasing kisses along its lacy edge as he worked the back of it undone.

Millie's hands, meanwhile, had peeled off Max's shirt and jeans, and soon they were lying naked on the sofa, indulging in the sensation of being able to lazily explore each other's bodies without the threat of interruption.

Max looked up at Millie. "Hey we forgot about a movie!" he said languidly.

Millie slinked her naked body up to the end of the sofa and reached behind her to grab the remote. She started to play the dvd in the machine. Of course, it was one of Thomas's.

"Ooo, 'In the Night Garden'. What a turn on!" laughed Millie.

"Works for me," said Max. "I reckon that Upsy Daisy would be up for it. Actually, she reminds me of you, with that oral fixation of hers."

Millie gave Max's arm a little slap. "All right then. If I'm Upsy Daisy, who are you?"

"Igglepiggle obviously," said Max. "Anyone can see that those two are doing it. Why else is he's always carrying that blanket?"

"At least you didn't say Makka Pakka. I've no doubt he's a deviant. I bet he's into all sorts of kinky stuff."

"You are so unadventurous," scolded Max. "But right now, I'm perfectly happy with good old fashioned shagging on the sofa."

Millie pointed the remote at the television and turned it off. She let it drop to the floor as she pulled Max towards her and kissed him passionately. There was a particular poignancy in the way they kissed and caressed each other, almost like they were afraid what would happen if they let each other go. In the space of a single evening, both had been tempted, both had been hurt, both had had their confidence in the other shaken. Neither had quite forgiven the other, and neither was entirely sure of their future with the other. But it didn't take long before, after a slightly tentative start on both sides, their lust and the sense of familiarity soon moved them beyond slow gentle motion towards escalating passion.

And so it went that like so many other couples had before them, they proved that nothing multiplies the likelihood of conception like an illicit, desperation-charged quickie on the sofa motivated by uncertainty, alcohol and the resulting denial of the potentially procreational consequences of the union...


	5. A Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

(i)

Max was feeling quite contented as he drove his little family to his parents' weekly Sunday dinner a week after the Stag and Hen's nights. He glanced into the rear vision mirror and smiled at the sight of Thomas, who sat in his car seat with a solemn look on his face as he pored intently over his little book of colours. He turned to his left and winked at Millie, who rolled her eyes in response before turning her attention back to gazing out at the world as it went by her passenger-side window. Max wasn't offended by her gesture. He knew it was just affectionate teasing, and anyway he was quite happy at that time to leave Millie to her thoughts while he focused on his own.

The week had gone really well for Max, even at work. His case load was easy and, unusually for him, he didn't have any major disagreements with anyone. His status had in fact risen by virtue of the good grace with which he accepted the inevitable teasing and comments about the events of the weekend, especially the Hen's night. By the time Max arrived at work on Monday, everyone had heard about both parties. His entry into CID was greeted with claps and whistles, to which he smiled and bowed.

Midway through the morning, Jo Masters had made her way up to CID to deliver a file to Max. With a nod in the direction of Stevie and Grace, Jo walked up to Max's desk and coughed, "A-hem" to attract his attention. Once Max looked up, she fell to her knees by his chair, placed the file between her teeth and clasped her hands together behind her back.

Knowing how Max could be, everyone held their breaths and waited for his reaction. Truth be told, Max was slightly displeased to be reminded of the position in which he had found Millie, but he knew he had to act the good sport. So he leant back in his chair and looked Jo up and down.

"That it? Is that the best you can do? What about the uniform?"

"Sorry, no Velcro on this one." she replied through her still clenched teeth.

"Shame," he said as he retrieved the file from her mouth, "You know you're the only woman around here I'd ever consider sleeping with."

"Ha!" laughed Jo, who hadn't expected Max to bite back. Though she was impressed, she was determined not to be outdone. "Throw in that little wife of yours, and you've got a deal!"

Jo gave Max one final wink before she left the room, leaving a very delighted audience behind her. Max smirked as he opened the file and started to read, satisfied that for once he seemed to have played it right in the work popularity stakes.

On the home front, everything was just as peachy. It seemed to him that he and Millie had rediscovered their passion for each other. Thomas had been obligingly well behaved: entertaining himself, sleeping solidly, as if to allow his parents more time to bond in their own special way. Max couldn't think of a time in their relationship when things had been better between him and Millie. And he had formed a new hypothesis as to why this was the case. _Sex_, he now believed, _was the solution to everything_. Or at least it was the solution to everything between him and Millie. Sex, in the form of what had happened between them the night Thomas was conceived, had seemingly conspired with Fate to bring the two of them together, even though neither of them had planned or consistently wished this. Then, when the tentative steps he and Millie had made towards a relationship had all but been reversed by a near indiscretion on his part, sex had put their relationship on more solid ground than it had ever been before. And then there were the potentially relationship ending events of last weekend. Both of them had been upset about what the other had done, and it had sparked off all sorts of deeper insecurities as well. But, with Thomas at his grandmother's and an empty house that presented all sorts of sexual possibilities, they had 'worked through' their problems and woken (rather late) the next day in each other's arms, the rift in their relationship completely healed. Sex had worked its magic for them yet again.

So, as Max turned into the driveway of his parents' front yard, he was a completely happy man - if a somewhat naïve one. Naïve because there was a very powerful factor he hadn't taken into account that could undermine his blissful scheme of things. And this factor was other people…

"There's Mag and Johanna," Millie pointed out as they parked the car. "Is it just me, or aren't they looking their usual sparkling selves?"

Max was not yet prepared to accept any clouds on his horizon. "I'm sure it's nothing. One of the kids probably just did something. Let's go."

They hopped out of the car and Millie went to the back seat to release the somewhat stir-crazy Thomas from his confines. Once free, Thomas sprang out of the car and toddled ahead of his parents. Max put his arm around Millie's shoulder and they walked up to Max's sisters.

"Why the long faces?" greeted Max.

Mag shrugged, "Oh don't worry about it. It's nothing. How are you all? Your mother arrived already, Millie. She's inside."

As the wedding got nearer, Millie and Max decided to try to integrate Mrs. Brown with the Carters in the hope of an improvement in their relations, so she had received an invitation to today's lunch.

Millie began to fear Max's sisters' mysterious mood might be something to do with her mother. "She hasn't… done anything, has she?"

Johanna smiled wanly and said, "Not really. Anyway, you'll see when you go inside."

"We'll just pop down to the shed and say hello to Dad first," said Max, grasping Millie's hand to lead her.

"No need for that, Dad's in the house," said Mag.

Max and Millie looked at each other. Something was so definitely up. Max's father rarely left his shed during the day time, especially when the house was full of people.

"Shall we get this over with then?" asked Johanna, putting an arm on Max's back to guide him in the direction of the house.

"O…K," replied Max with increasing trepidation.

Mag grabbed Millie's arm and patted it. "Now, all I'm saying is be prepared."

With that, the four of them went through the back door of the house and into the sitting room. They could hear the sounds of Mrs. Carter busily preparing the meal coming from the nearby kitchen. In the sitting room they found Mr. Carter and Mrs. Brown seated on the sofa. Each was holding a glass of wine and smiling and talking in low, intimate tones to the other. Mrs. Brown was fluttering her eyelashes and stroking the stem of her glass. Mr. Carter was chivalrously offering to refill her glass, and holding forth on the virtues of the wine.

Millie and Max stood in the doorway, and both felt their jaws drop as the comforting hands of Mag and Johanna came to rest sympathetically on their shoulders.

And Max's perfect world came crashing down…

(ii)

Max and Millie said a quick hello and ducked back out of the room to confer with Mag and Johanna.

"What the hell is going on there?" demanded Max.

"We're not sure," replied Mag stiltedly. "But I see you agree with us, something's not right."

"Your dad's just being a good host, isn't he?" said Millie uncertainly.

"Our dad?" said Max. "Obviously it's nothing to do with our dad! Your mother's the one who's a flirt! How was she at Thomas's Baptism, with Leon, Roger… anyone really!" Max's mind flashed back to the uncomfortable memory of the way Mrs. Brown had straightened his tie.

"Max! Don't!" barked his oldest sister. "It's not Millie's fault. Neither she nor we are responsible for the behaviour of our parents!"

"Ah, you're here!" They all turned around to see Mrs. Carter appear from the kitchen behind them. She gave Millie a kiss and a hug. "You haven't been into the sitting room yet?"

It was Max's turn to greet his mother, which he did with far more affection than was his habit. He even went so far as to kiss her on the top of her head. "Yeah, we did, Ma, but now we're just talking. You all right?"

"I'm wonderful, Maxie," said Mrs. Carter, taking advantage of her son's unexpected display of affection and holding him tight. "Now, I'll just go and tell Mrs. Brown and your father to come into the dining room…"

"It's OK, Ma, I'll do it!" Max jumped in front of his mother protectively. That was a scene he didn't want her to walk in on.

"All right son," said Mrs. Carter, slightly bemused by Max's eagerness to please her. "Come with me then ladies. Where's Thomas, Millie?"

"With his cousins."

"Johanna, can you call the children then?"

Johanna obeyed her mother. Soon everyone was assembled at the table. None of the middle generation were pleased to see Mrs. Brown take a seat beside Mr. Carter's at the head of the table.

"So, what culinary treat have you prepared for us today, Magda?" asked Mrs. Brown sweetly, quirking her eye brow at Mr. Carter. He, like her, was British born and despite years of eating Mrs. Carter's cooking, still preferred the food of his childhood.

"Nothing too fancy, Marion, just some lovely vegetables and some lamb, cooked like we do it where I come from. Not until the it's almost burnt to a crisp, but until it's tender."

Mrs. Brown turned towards Millie who was sitting beside her and muttered, "This from a woman whose nation's most famous dish is a beetroot soup! Hardly one of the world's great cuisines!"

Millie looked annoyed, then became more so when she felt Max kick her in the shin under the table.

Mrs. Carter knew something had been said, something insulting, but hadn't heard exactly what.

"Perhaps, Marion, one day soon you can cook for us all?"

"Do you cook?" asked Johanna, trying to make it seem less like a competition and more of a conversation.

Max nearly choked on his food to hear his own father's voice reply to the question.

"Marion's a great cook," Harry Carter said, smiling at his guest and patting her hand. "She made me a lovely stew the last time I was over at her house."

"Oh, Dad was at your house?" said Mag weakly. Like her brother, she felt her food getting caught in her throat.

"Yes, I had a blocked gutter. Or was that time the squeaky hinge? I can't remember!" replied Mrs. Brown.

"I can't remember which time it was," Mr. Carter said.

"My husband is very good with his hands," said Mrs. Carter proudly.

"You'll have no argument from me on that one!" agreed Mrs. Brown.

Their children were just about all off their food by this stage. They were too distressed to question anyone any further.

After the meal, it was time to retire to the sitting room. Mrs. Carter returned to the kitchen, and was soon followed out of the room by Millie, Max and his sisters.

"All right then Millie, you stay in the sitting room…"

"…as chaperone," interjected Max.

"…and we'll go have a word with Mum."

Millie was feeling so responsible for this mess, she just nodded and complied. She was aware of Max's hostility even without looking at him.

After she had departed, Johanna said sternly to her brother, "Max, you're being unfair. Stop taking it out on poor Millie!"

"Come on, you know it's not Dad's fault…"

"Look, we all know it's that slut of a woman's doing," agreed Johanna snappishly. "I'm sure Millie knows it too. But you're only hurting her by reminding her of it!"

"It's OK for you," muttered Max, "You're not about to marry someone you may some day share parents with!"

"Don't be silly Max!" retorted Mag impatiently. "Mum's far too Catholic to let Dad divorce her! The worst that can happen is that they'll be living in sin!"

Max wasn't in the mood for Mag's jokes, "Thanks Mag, you're such a comfort!" he replied sarcastically.

"Anyway, come on, let's do this," said Johanna as they approached the kitchen door. "And we work as a team right?"

Max and Mag nodded.

Mrs. Carter was putting away the dishes and tidying up when they entered the room. She looked lovingly at her three children, then continued with her work.

"How are you, Ma?" asked Mag, putting an arm around her mother.

Mrs. Carter paused for a moment from her wiping down the table and said in a surprised voice, "I'm fine Darling. Why?"

Her three children looked at each other, hoping one of the others would take the responsibility for voicing what they all thought.

Johanna saw that neither Max nor Mag was going to speak. She knew this was going to happen! She resigned herself to the inevitable, took a deep breath and did the big sisterly thing.

"Ma, we just wondered how you felt about, um, Dad's friendship with Marion Brown."

Mrs. Carter rinsed out the sponge and then wrung it dry, before wiping her hands on her ever-present apron. She looked at her children and said cheerfully, "It's sweet, isn't it?"

Her children thought that perhaps she was being a bit too trusting. Max, who was, after all, his mother's favourite, couldn't keep his indignation to himself.

"Ma, I know you trust Dad, but remember, Mrs. Brown's like vulture, circling her prey until…"

Whack! Max felt the full force of his mother's hand on the back on his head. "Maxie, Mrs. Brown is your mother-in-law and you should not be talking about her like that! You should show her some respect!"

Max rubbed the back of his head and made a face, but didn't dare continue his tirade.

Johanna spoke gently to her mother, "Maybe Max was a little bit harsh Ma, but we're just saying they are spending a lot of time alone out there together while you're in here…"

"Darlings, I'm not worried!" laughed Mrs. Carter.

Johanna, continued, "Ma, perhaps it's true that Dad's no Casanova…"

Mrs. Carter snorted, "I'm not saying that! Let me tell you, before you lot came along we would spent whole weekends…"

All three of her children covered their ears with their hands.

"Ma! Shh! Not another word!" begged Mag.

Mrs. Carter laughed. She was very much enjoying winding her children up! "Darling, your father is not a young man. He wouldn't be able to - you know - with her, and then come home to me every night and still be so energetic when he and I…"

"OK, Ma, we don't need to hear any more!"

Mrs. Carter looked at the troubled faces of her children and smiled. Bless them, trying to protect her! "My darlings, I tell you, don't worry about it. Mrs. Brown is just a very lonely woman. She's lost her husband. Your father is a good man and he wants to help her. Is there anything wrong with that?" None of her children commented, so she answered herself. "No, there isn't. Now," she flicked the switch on the kettle, "you three can make the coffee today."

She took off her apron, put it on the back of the chair and left the kitchen. She shook her head at her children's silliness. As if that Marion Brown could take her husband from her! The idea was ridiculous. She'd kill the bitch first…


	6. Bedtime Discussions & Plans

(i)

Later that same Sunday evening, Harry Carter was sitting up in bed studying his cryptic crossword when his wife, who had finally finished her very unnecessary nightly spring cleaning, came into the room to prepare herself for bed. He peered over the top of his glasses at Magda, who was steadying herself with a hand on the bed while balancing on one leg to remove her stockings.

"So, am I wrong, or was something strange happening with our children today?" he asked, his eyes now returned to his paper.

Magda sat on the bed and smiled to herself before turning to face her husband.

"They think you and Marion Brown are having an affair," she said simply.

"Good heavens!" Harry removed his glasses and put down his paper. This revelation required his full attention. "Why on earth would they think that?"

Magda shrugged, "Who can say? I guess they noticed the way you and she were alone together in the sitting room drinking wine while I was in the kitchen slaving away..."

This interpretation of his actions had never occurred to Harry before. He was aghast at his wife's words. "But Magda, you hate the woman! I thought I was doing you a favour keeping her out of your way!"

Magda smiled to herself again. "You are, darling. I'm just telling you what they said," she replied calmly.

A concerned Harry shuffled up behind his wife, slipped an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "It didn't sound like it. You sounded upset. You're not upset, are you Magda?"

Magda patted his cheek with her hand. She was hugely enjoying this family drama. She couldn't remember the last time either her husband or her children had paid this much attention to her feelings. She pouted, "Not really...maybe a little."

He bent his head and kissed her shoulder. "You know you're everything to me. You're my rock. If anything happened to you I…"

"Don't worry, there's no way I'd leave you alone to marry Marion Brown! I stay alive just to keep an eye on you! And to see our Maxie properly settled," she said as an afterthought.

Her husband squeezed her tighter. "You know, I think the only reason Marion and I get on is that we're both useless without our spouses. I get the impression her husband took care of everything for her. If you knew the simple tasks she just has no idea about! The woman can't even change a light globe! Whereas you, you'd be up on a ladder half an hour after I was dead without any concern for your safety, every bit as reckless as you were that day when you were two weeks off having Johanna and I came home to see you hanging out the upstairs window to wash its outside."

Magda rolled her eyes. He always brought this one up! "The window was dirty!" she explained for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"And you could have fallen and killed both yourself and Johanna…"

"But I didn't! You worry too much."

"Because, as I said, you're everything to me."

Magda said nothing as she leant back against her husband and he held her tightly. The two of them sat in silence for a little while.

"Anyway," said Harry eventually. "Tell me more about what happened."

"The three of them came and asked me how I felt about it."

"What did you say?"

"I told them she was a lonely woman and you were a good man to help her."

"Didn't they care that they might hurt you bringing up my affair like that?"

Magda gave his arm a slap, "So now it's an affair huh?"

"I was speaking from their perspective. I'm amazed they think I would bring my mistress home to meet the family and eat my wife's cooking!"

"They know I am a good and obedient wife perhaps, who wouldn't complain?" suggested Magda.

Harry's expression displayed just how likely he thought it was that anyone would think that! "Or maybe they just think I'm an insensitive husband - and father-in-law for that matter!"

"Look, I don't think it's so much you they're suspicious of, it's Marion."

"But don't they understand she's grieving for her husband? The poor woman doesn't know any way to relate to a man other than acting the coquette if you ask me."

"I know, and I agree. I am not upset about it. But I do worry about how it might affect Maxie and Millie."

Harry had always felt that Magda had spoilt their son. He wondered why she had raised her girls to be so independent and her son to be reliant on her. Of course, Max was her baby. But there came a time when the apron strings simply had to be cut.

"The boy's nearly forty, and he's supposed to be a detective for God sake! He should be able to nut these things out and view them objectively."

Magda came to the defence of her favourite. "He's just very sensitive, that's all…"

Harry snorted, "Only to his own needs! But I shouldn't say that, he's improved no end since Thomas and Millie came along. And I guess it's a major step forward that he showed some concern about you today, even if it was just from jumping to conclusions."

"Why are you picking on Maxie? His sisters were there too!"

Harry sighed, "True. I don't understand Johanna. I would have thought she at least would feel she could talk to me about it."

They both paused again. Magda broke the silence.

"Anyway, what are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm offended they don't trust their own father. When have I ever given them any reason to think I'm anything other than utterly devoted to you?"

Magda patted his cheek again. "You never have. Mind you though, it's not like they see us spend that much time together, especially not these days. You're always in your shed..."

"You're always in your kitchen," her husband countered.

Magda playfully feinged indignation. Neither of them would, or expected the other to, change.

"And, you have to admit, Marion is a bit of a flirt." Magda had a stronger word she wanted to use, but decided against it.

Harry sensed that more than anything Magda wanted reassurance. He drew his wife close to him again. "Now, now, you can't make judgments about people like that. Why, I remember some, um, 50 years ago meeting this 18 year old Polish lass who looked for all the world like she was a bit of a goer…"

Magda giggled. "It was only 48. But go on with your story. What happened with her?"

"Well, surprisingly, she ended up being a completely cracking wife and mother."

Magda turned and looked into her husband's eyes reproachfully, "Are you saying she wasn't a goer after all?"

"Not at all…" Harry reached behind him with one arm to turn off his bedside lamp, and with the other pulled his wife towards him and kissed her. "In fact, she's still going strong…"

* * *

Later than night, Magda and Harry lay in each other's arms, thinking about their children's behaviour that day. Magda was thinking how touched she was they seemed worried about her. Harry was feeling miffed they apparently thought so little of him.

"So, do you think I should have a word to the children and explain things?" Harry asked his wife.

Magda ran a finger lazily along the arm that lay across her and considered his suggestion.

"No," she said. "I have a better idea."

"Go on."

"I think they need to be taught to respect their father."

Harry kissed his wife's forehead. "I'm touched. What do you suggest we do?"

"I say if they want to think the worst of you, and of our relationship, we give them what they want. Let's have Marion over again next weekend. Maybe you should take her for a walk around the garden, arm in arm, something like that…"

"Aren't you worried about the effect this might have on Max and Millie?"

Magda had changed her loyalties considerably since her husband had pandered so convincingly to her need for reassurance. "I think they are strong enough to get through this…"

"And it will save them making a mistake if they're not," added her husband.

His comment rekindled Magda's concern, as the thought of her son not settling down with Millie was one she didn't want to contemplate. "Anyway, it's not like you're actually going to take it too far with Marion…" she pinched him to underline this point. "You're just going to play with their minds a little. Ah, yes, we have to get together with her to see Fr. Bourke as well, so there's another opportunity."

Harry laughed out loud. "Not just a goer, but a wicked, wicked woman into the bargain! I adore you Magda."

Magda looked into her husband's eyes, and there was no need for her to vocalise that she felt exactly the same way about him.

"Now, let's sleep huh? Good night darling."

"Good night my love."

(ii)

At the same time Harry Carter was discovering that his children thought he was romancing his son's mother-in-law, the said son was waiting for his soon-to-be-wife to return from the bathroom and climb into bed beside him. Max was feeling deservedly guilty about having taken out the shock of seeing his father with Marion Brown on Millie. Once he got over his initial indignation he realised that Millie's feelings about their interaction was just as strong as his own, only she had behaved much more graciously about it to him and his sisters than he had to her. Max reminded himself that only a week ago their relationship had been on shaky ground. Was it worth undoing all the repair work they had done on it in the meantime?

Max knew he had to be the one to make the overtures of apology to Millie and get everything between them back on track. And he knew the perfect way to do this, the way that always worked for him and Millie. All it took was for Millie to come to bed…

Millie was taking her time about cleaning her teeth. This was because she was making the most of this opportunity to be alone to have a bit of cry. She was so sick of everything. Sick of worrying about Max, her mother, Thomas…and everyone else. Sick of coping with running a house and working. Sick of worrying about how everyone else was feeling. Sick of worrying about whether or not marrying Max was the right thing to do.

It had occurred to her that it was now nearly four years since she had had a break. First she had worked at establishing her career at Sun Hill. Then she had worked towards being able to take time off to have Thomas. Then he had been born, and for the first few months of his life she had looked after him by herself. After that time she had had Max to help her, but even then she hadn't really ever been able to take much time out. If Thomas woke in the night, she was the one who got up to take care of him. If he was sick, she took time off work. It apparently had never occurred to Max that he could take care of these things. He was the one with the career.

Millie knew she had spent too long in the bathroom and that Max would be starting to get concerned. She washed her face to remove the traces of her tears and made her way to the bedroom. Max was sitting up in bed, waiting for her with a smile. Apparently all had been forgiven. Millie took off her robe and climbed into bed beside him. They had had sex every night since her Hen's night, so she was presuming this was on the cards again. She turned towards Max and fell into his waiting arms.

Max had been waiting for Millie's appearance fully expecting a continuation of their new nightly routine. He held Millie for a moment, then started to run his hands over her back slowly. They moved to face each other, and Max leaned in to kiss her. Just as their lips were about to met, they both opened their eyes and looked at each other. Then they both froze. Neither wanted to admit it, but they were both thinking the same thing. They were thinking of his father with her mother.

Neither Max nor Millie wanted to face the fact that they had suddenly lost their desire for each other. Instead they both smiled awkwardly and kissed.

"Well, good night," said Max, wriggling over to his side of the bed and turning off his lamp.

"Good night," responded Millie, turning off her own lamp in the nick of time to keep Max from seeing the tears that were making a reappearance in her eyes.

They turned away from each other and lay facing their respective walls, staring into the darkness and wondering what had just happened. Max, who never allowed himself to be a deep thinker, soon fell asleep. Millie lay there silently blinking tears from her eyes. It was like another burden had been laid on her already overloaded shoulders.

_This is it,_ she thought to herself_, This is as much as I can take. _As she lay there beside the now snoring Max, Millie knew she couldn't go on like this. Her mind was made up and she knew she had no other option. She knew what she had to do…


	7. Marion & Millie

(i)

Marion Brown would have been completely horrified to know that anyone would think she'd even contemplate having an affair with Harry Carter. In fact, the thought of having sex with anyone other than her late husband Thomas sickened her. Harry had made a very shrewd analysis of her character when he said that she simply knew no other way of relating to men than to flirt with them. That was the way she had been brought up. A good hostess flirts with the male guests. A good female guest flirts with her host. She liked Harry and resented the happily married, confident Magda, and perhaps this made her interactions with them both appear to be those of a predatory female. But in fact if she was waspish towards Magda it was more a case of her expressing her disapproval of Catholics and foreigners than a desire to come between her and her husband.

Marion was the kind of woman who felt that her identity was tied up in her relationship with the man in her life. When, as a young woman of twenty years, she had first laid eyes on Thomas Brown, she happily surrendered all responsibilities and decisions about life into his capable hands. And capable hands they were indeed. Marion never had to worry about money or deciding which house to buy or to which school to send their two lovely daughters. Thomas had researched all these things and although he relayed his discoveries to his obliging wife, she never had to bother herself about actually forming an opinion other than to reply saying she trusted his judgment completely.

For thirty years Marion lived in this providential state, secure in the knowledge that any of the troubles of life that could affect her, Thomas would take care of. Then one day, completely out of the blue, Thomas had suffered a heart attack and simply dropped dead. It was as if the bottom had fallen out of Marion's world.

She loved her husband and didn't really want anyone to take his place, but at the same time she felt compelled to punish him for leaving her alone. After the formalities of burying her husband were taken care of, Marion forced herself out into the world with a view to finding herself someone to fill in the gaps he left. She was relatively young and attractive, so she had no trouble attracting attention.

But most of the men she encountered in those situations seemed to be only after 'one thing' and that 'thing' was not what she was seeking. What she wanted was a man who would take care of her the way her husband had done in every aspect other than this. She found that without Thomas, problems that had never occurred to her were starting to demand her attention.

And then one day when she was visiting her oldest daughter's new parents-in-law, she had casually mentioned that the recent rain seemed to have caused dampness in her ceiling. This was the point at which Harry Carter had stepped in and just as casually offered to lend a hand. Marion was surprised by the contrast between Harry and his boisterous, uncouth (as Marion would have it) wife. He was quiet, gentle and considerate. He seemed concerned about her difficulties, and expressed a desire to fix them. So Harry had turned up on her doorstep with his ladder and tools and set to work eradicating the source of her ceiling mould. Then he had noticed a loose down pipe. So he fixed that as well. While they were having a very congenial cup of tea in between his chores, she mentioned a slow moving drain. She and Harry had made an appointment for him to return another day.

Marion always enjoyed Harry's visits. It was nice to have someone come around and look after her without expecting anything in return other than a cup of tea or perhaps a quick meal. It was nice to have someone to talk to. She still cried herself to sleep every night as she gazed over at the emptiness of Thomas's side of the bed, but she didn't feel so dreadfully lonely any more.

(ii)

"Max," said Millie. "Do you think you could cope with looking after Thomas by yourself?"

It was the Tuesday morning after the controversial lunch at Max's parents', and Millie and Max were grabbing a quick breakfast before they both had to head off to work.

Max was running late, and was hastily buttering toast to eat in the car when Millie asked the question. He was slightly offended by it. Was this a vote of no confidence in his ability to take care of his own son?

"Of course," Max answered shortly, trying to hide the fact he was wounded by the implications of what she had said. Anyway, he was running late and just didn't have time for a confrontation and he was concerned that with the present insecurity in their relationship something trivial like this could quickly escalate into a fight. So, keeping his peace, he kissed Millie on the head, blew a kiss to his son and dashed out the door with the toast in his mouth.

It was only when he was alone in the car that he considered the possibility that Millie wasn't just questioning his skills in looking after Thomas. It was almost like she was talking as if she were planning on being absent. Was she was thinking of leaving him? He knew that things hadn't been going smoothly between them and he himself had had doubts, but surely ending the relationship was rather an extreme reaction, especially in the midst of planning an elaborate church wedding?

As Max sat caught in traffic, the possibility of her not going through with the wedding started to plague him. Soon he felt he had to know immediately if this was what she was getting at. He dialed her mobile.

Millie had just arrived at the Carter house to drop Thomas off on her own way to work when the phone rang. While passing her son into the waiting arms of his grandmother, she held the phone on her shoulder as she struggled with the many bags that seemed to accompany her son everywhere he went.

"Yeah," she said into the phone.

"Hey, Babe, it's just me. Um I wanted to check, which day is it we're seeing the priest this week?"

Millie couldn't believe that Max had chosen this particularly busy time to ask her something he could have easily checked up on himself. "It's tomorrow," she replied impatiently.

"Oh, OK. So it's still on then?" he asked.

"Yes, it's still on. Why are you asking me this now? Why not tonight? I'm just in the middle of organising Thomas…"

"OK, sorry. I'll let you go and we'll talk later. Have a good day."

"Bye." Millie plonked Thomas's bags down on Mrs. Carter's kitchen floor and then snapped her phone shut.

Mrs. Carter could see Millie's annoyance plainly and it troubled her. Millie was frequently touchy these days and Mrs. Carter was keen to defuse anything that might get in the way of this wedding. "Everything OK darling?" she asked.

Millie exhaled loudly. "Yes, everything's fine. It's just that that was an inconvenient time to get a phone call."

"Was it Max?" asked his mother.

"Yes it was. And he was asking about seeing Fr. Bourke this week. I mean, why ring and ask about that now? He knows I'm rushing around at this time of the day!"

"That's men for you, darling. They just don't think about things like that. But I'm sure he didn't mean any harm."

Millie sighed again, "Yes, I'm sure you're right. I think I'm just tired, that's all."

At this point Mr. Carter entered the room. When he beheld Millie, a great smile spread across his face.

"Morning Millie, how's everything?" he asked.

"Fine thanks," Millie smiled back at him. Even after the unpleasantness of the weekend, she couldn't deny she was very fond of her future father-in-law.

"Not having second thoughts about becoming a Carter I hope? You're still set for the meeting at the church on Wednesday?"

"Yep, all set for it." Millie was actually dreading the meeting. She was not a Catholic and had no idea what to expect from the priest.

"And, um, is your lovely mother still planning on attending?" Mr. Carter added.

Millie was surprised, and, in light of her mother's behaviour with Mr. Carter the other day, somewhat troubled by his question.

"Yes she is," she replied.

Mr. Carter gave a satisfied smile. "Excellent," he said, before turning and leaving the room.

Millie pondered Mr. Carter's behaviour for a moment, and wondered if she should be as suspicious of his relationship with her mother as Max and his sisters seemed to be. Up until this point, it had been more of an embarrassment to her than anything. In her heart, she couldn't seriously believe either her mother or Mr. Carter would show so little regard for the vows of marriage. But his reaction right now was undeniably troubling.

She looked over at Mrs. Carter, who for some reason was now facing the stove, as if she didn't want Millie to see her reaction to her husband's enquiry. What did Mrs. Carter think was going on between her husband and Millie's mother? And did it upset her?

Millie simply didn't have time to think about these things right now. After farewelling her mother-in-law with a quick kiss, she rushed out the door.

(iii)

The next day, Millie and Thomas went to collect her sister, Annie, from the airport. As Annie lived in Germany she had only seen Thomas once since his Baptism and she couldn't get over how much he had grown in between the visits. Thomas eyed this overly affectionate newcomer suspiciously as she sat in the front seat of the car beside his mother. They were going straight from the airport to collect Mrs. Brown and then on to the church to meet with Fr. Bourke for his pre-wedding pep-talk.

Annie looked across at Millie as she drove and was struck by how tired and stressed her sister looked. The only other time she could recall Millie looking like that was when Thomas was a newborn. She had to say something.

"Sorry to say it, Mil, but you look terrible. Is something up?"

Millie was getting very good at keeping her feelings to herself, but she found it hard not to open up to her sister. Apart from Max, Annie was the person closest to her in the world. It was a dilemma. She hadn't wanted to bother anyone with her plans until there was nothing they could do to change them. But perhaps Annie was the one person who would understand. Perhaps Annie could truly help her...

Meanwhile, Max had gone straight from work to the church and when he arrived he found only his two sisters there. This was convenient, because the three of them still felt they had things to discuss. And they were all nervously waiting to see how their father and Mrs. Brown would behave towards each other when they met up today.

"So what does Millie think about it?" asked Mag. "I wasn't sure if she was as convinced as we were that something might be happening between them."

"I'm not sure either," answered Max. "We haven't really discussed it. In fact, we haven't really talked much at all."

"Actually," confessed Johanna. "I have noticed Millie has been seeming a bit preoccupied recently. I put it down to all the stress of the wedding."

"Me too, but thinking about it, it's not like the wedding is the top of her list of things to discuss. Is something else wrong with her Maxie?" asked Mag.

Max nervously chewed his thumbnail. He thought about the question Millie had asked him the preceding morning. He didn't want to say anything about it to anyone, but since his sisters were asking…

"I don't know for sure, but I think...I think she might be considering leaving me." There. He'd voiced his fear. Now all he had to do was wait for his sisters to tell him he was being silly.

Mag and Johanna exchanged a worried look.

"Has she said anything to make you suspect that, Maxie?" asked his older sister.

"Yesterday she asked if I'd be able to look after Thomas by myself," he replied

The girls looked at each other again, this time in alarm.

Johanna put her hand on her brother's shoulder and said, "Maxie, darling. That's not saying she's thinking of leaving you. She's thinking of leaving Thomas as well."

A look of horror crept over Max's face. He knew something about her words had unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite put a finger on. And he knew now that he'd been stopping himself thinking too deeply about it for fear of their full ramifications.

"What, um, what exactly are you saying Johanna?" he said quaveringly. A feeling of dread filled Max's heart as he analysed her words further. Maybe she didn't want to start a new life without him at all? Maybe her dissatisfaction went deeper than that?

"Just how depressed has Millie been lately, Max?" asked Mag gently.


	8. Conversations at the Church

When Johanna and Mag failed to offer Max the reassurance he sought, he started to panic. "What are you getting at? Why would she be depressed?" he demanded.

Neither of his sisters wanted to point out to an increasingly agitated Max that he might not be the easiest person to live with, so Johanna said tactfully, "Sometimes being a wife and mother can just make you feel like that. You feel like your life is all about looking after other people, like your needs don't matter."

Max protested, "But, but that's not true in Millie's case. She has interests outside the home. She has her job. And as to her other needs, well…"

Mag waved a hand to silence him, "We don't need that kind of detail, Maxie. You shouldn't feel like we're accusing you and saying it's your fault. But all of these things; motherhood, running a house, working, can leave you utterly exhausted. And not just physically, but emotionally as well."

"OK, so what do you suggest I do?" asked Max, finally accepting that they might have a point. "You know I can't just tell her to quit her job, she still seems to enjoy it…"

Johanna and Mag looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Johanna sighed and said patiently, "No, darling, we're not saying you tell her anything, what you should probably be doing is asking what she wants. Or what you can do to make things better for her."

"Let her know you appreciate her and care that she's happy, that kind of thing," explained Mag.

Max put his hands on his hips and nodded in a 'can do' fashion. He felt more in control now he had a plan to work with.

At this point Millie and her family arrived. Kisses and hugs were exchanged, with the newly returned Annie as the focal point. While Mag and Johanna chatted to Annie about her journey, Max moved in beside Millie and slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her hair.

"How are you, my love?" he whispered into her ear.

Millie's emotions were still quite close to the surface following her talk with Annie, so she was ready to lap up any affectionate offerings from her husband-to-be. But she did find herself wondering why he couldn't always be so spontaneous and demonstrative.

"I'm OK," she whispered back. "Can we have a talk later?"

"Sure," replied Max bravely. He dreaded what the subject of discussion would be. But he was making a valiant effort to heed his sisters' advice to suppress his own fears and let Millie show him what she needed.

Mr. and Mrs. Carter appeared, accompanied by Roger. Mrs. Carter announced that she'd seen Fr. Bourke on the way in and he apologised and said that he was running late, so could they amuse themselves just a little longer? Ordinarily the wait would have annoyed Max, but now he saw it as an opportunity to take Millie aside and get her to talk - or, rather, give her the chance to talk if she felt like it. Before he had time to suggest this, however, Millie had already wandered off to chat to Roger.

Max stood slightly apart and watched the various interactions going on around him. He frowned as he saw his father kiss Mrs. Brown and leave his hand on her arm just a little too long. A glance over at his sisters revealed that they too had noticed this and were reacting to it with the same uneasiness. They were all too perturbed by their father's actions to notice their mother smothering a smile as she pretended not to notice the lingering hand or the reactions of her three children.

Max turned his attention back to Millie and saw that she and Roger had joined Annie and Mrs. Brown. Max noted how Mrs. Brown had immediately linked arms with Roger and Roger was clearly uncomfortable about this. He was keeping his eyes open for an opportunity to escape from her clutches. The moment Mrs. Brown loosened her grip on him, Roger made a swift exit to the other side of the room to talk to Max's sisters.

While this was happening, Mr. and Mrs. Carter were conspiring in the corner.

"Ah!" said Magda, nudging her husband. "Maxie is standing over there alone. Perhaps now is a good time for a father / son chat, if you know what I mean?"

Harry grinned, "I do my dear, I do. Off I go."

Harry gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and made his way towards Max. Max was only aware of his father's presence when he felt an elbow in his ribs, followed by his father nodding in the direction of Mrs. Brown and her daughters.

"What a tribe of smashing looking women, eh?" Max copped a second elbow in his side from Harry, who was speaking with a deliberately leering tone.

Max tried to think of another time in his life his father had spoken to him like this, but he couldn't recall one. He reflected how much he preferred it that way.

Harry continued. "That's quite a family you're marrying into, my boy! All three of them are absolutely lovely! The girls look a lot like their mother and Marion is… well, older women don't come much finer than her."

Max pounced on one word in his father's description of Mrs. Brown. "She may be an 'older' woman Dad, but she's nearly twenty years younger than you. Closer to Roger's age really. Did you notice her with him before?"

"Oooo, you think I have a rival, eh?" Harry laughed. Max couldn't make out if his father was just trying to be funny. "But really, son, does an age difference actually matter? Especially at my time of life!"

Max shrugged, then said significantly, "Maybe you should ask Mum? She's the only other person around here anywhere near as old as you are."

Harry was enjoying himself all the more because Max was challenging him. He winked conspiratorially at him. "Don't tell her that, son. A word to the wise, women can be quite sensitive about that type of thing. Just wait until Millie has her third or fourth thirtieth birthday, you'll see what I mean!"

Max didn't react to that one, so Harry changed his tack. "But seriously, Max, you're doing very well for yourself. Millie's just wonderful. She's smart, she's fantastic with Thomas, and she's beautiful into the bargain."

"I know that Dad," sighed Max. He becoming increasingly despondent at everything constantly reminding him that he had been less than vigilant in making Millie feel appreciated. And that he was possibly about to pay the ultimate price for his neglect.

An oblivious Harry was on a roll. "Millie's class all the way, like that mother of hers. Very different type, I suppose, from your mother, who nonetheless has a definite appeal of her own. Actually," Harry leant in towards Max as if to talk confidentially, "when I met her she was very young, and hadn't so much lost her accent. She had such a wonderful, peasant-like quality to her, you know, like she was up for a bit of a tumble in the hay, if you know what I mean?"

Max had always seen his mother as having been a beauty in her youth, but from the same perspective as one might appreciated a painting or a pleasant view. Having been forced to conjure up the image of her and his dad stopping off at the roadside for a quick shag in haystack was almost too much for him to bear. He looked around in the vain hope someone would come over and interrupt his misery, but there was no salvation in sight.

Truth be told, Harry had no more desire to elaborate on the subject of his and Magda's sex life to Max than Max had to hear about it, but his indignation at being seen by his children as an unfaithful husband niggled at him. He hoped that by mentioning how much Magda appealed to him, he would give Max the idea he was a bit of a 'player', rather than a disillusioned old man on the lookout for a new love.

"But enough about my wife," Harry said, much to Max's relief. "We were talking about yours. There's no denying Millie and Annie look a lot like their late father too. You know that photo Marion has up of the four of them together?"

"The one of the mantelpiece?" said Max distractedly.

"No, the one in Marion's bedroom," corrected Harry, feeling almost ashamed at just how very pleased he was with himself for having remembered that.

As Harry had hoped, his use of the word 'bedroom' certainly grabbed Max's attention. But Max said nothing for fear that a response might encourage his father to elaborate.

Harry continued anyway. "Not that I studied it very clearly you understand. Was far too busy at the time. But as I saying, apart from the obvious inheritance of the hair, the girls certainly look a lot like their dad."

Harry's actual reason for being in Marion's room was to tack down a loose bit of carpet, but he wasn't about to tell Max that. He eyed his son, expecting him to look shocked or uncomfortable. But instead it appeared Max wasn't really listening. Harry became concerned.

"Something troubling you son? A case of pre-marriage jitters perhaps?"

"Actually, I'm really more worried about Millie having them," sighed Max.

Harry patted his son's arm. "I wouldn't worry about that, Max. Millie's a keeper, steady as a rock. She loves you and I've no doubt she'll do the right thing by you."

Max nodded, even though he wasn't convinced his father was right.

Harry was beginning to worry he might have really distressed the lad. Teasing him was one thing, but upsetting him...that was never Harry's intention. It was time for the joking to stop.

Placing both his hands on Max's upper arms, he looked his boy over with sincere pride. Here was his youngest child, his only son, on the verge of getting married. Harry had always secretly felt that Max could do with being taken down a peg or two for his own good, after all those years of being spoilt by his mother. But this was not the time to rub salt in any wounds. It was possible that a kind word from his old man right now was just the remedy his boy needed. Harry felt he should say something significant, but wasn't quite sure what.

After a pause that lasted long enough for Max to start wondering what the hell his Dad about to do, Harry spoke.

"You know Max, it's a special day to a father when he can talk to his son man to man like this, about women and such," he said with a tear in his eye.

He gave Max's arms a hearty slap then walked away. He hoped that those words and his gesture were enough of a boost for Max for now. There were of course so many other things he could have said, like how he was proud of the man Max had become etc, but now was not the time. Harry strongly suspected if he'd declared his admiration for the boy any further, his tears would have started in earnest.

Soon Harry was talking to Millie and Annie. He offered them each an arm, which they both took cheerfully.

As Max stood and pondered the notion that it might soon be time to commit the old man, Mag and Johanna appeared either side of him.

"Well, what were you and Dad chatting about?" asked Mag.

"Believe me, you don't want to know," muttered Max. "Say, is there such as thing as a late life crisis, you know, the type of thing that might hit a man when he turns 70?"

"Not that I've heard of. But I do see why you ask," said Johanna.

The three of them observed their father, who was still laughing and flirting with Millie and Annie.

Max shook his head. "A month ago it was a miracle if he ever ventured out of his shed. Now, look at him, a gorgeous young redhead on each arm..."

Johanna snorted, "Chingford's answer to Hugh Hefner!"

"If only he'd select bunnies that weren't your soon-to-be-family," commented Mag.

"At least while he's flirting with them, he's not actually going to get lucky," replied Max.

"At least not with the younger generation," added Johanna.

* * *

Everyone was beginning to wonder just how much longer this priest was going to be. Mag and Johanna took it upon themselves to go investigate.

Left alone again, Max spied Millie standing by herself and started to make his way towards her. On the way he was accosted by Roger. Roger saw the anxious look on Max's face but failed to work out that it was caused by his eagerness to talk to Millie. He felt it might be his turn to have a paternal word with the groom-to-be.

"Max, you all right?" asked Roger, halting Max's progress with a hand on his arm.

It was all Max could do to keep his cool as, due to this delay, he watched the one person he actually wanted to speak to again elude him.

Max looked impatiently at Roger and said, "I'm fine Rodge, I'm just trying to find a moment to talk to Millie."

"Oh," said Roger, as he watched Millie make her way out the door. "Sorry about that, Sarge."

Millie was enjoying the chance to step apart from the throng and gather her thoughts a bit. She watched as Max started to make his way over to her, only to be stopped by Roger. She was somewhat grateful for that. She did want to talk to Max, but she feared what she had to say might upset him, and she didn't want to do that when they were in the presence of all their family. She thought somehow her plans would not be in keeping, either, with the priest's ideas on the virtues of sacrifice and obedience within Catholic marriage.

She was standing near the crying room, the door of which was open a jar. She became aware of voices coming from within the room, one male, one female. The male voice she quickly worked out was Max's father's. Crossing her fingers that she would not recognise the second voice as her mother, she listened intently for the female voice to speak. She was relieved to identify the voice as Mrs. Carter's. She would have left them there to talk in private had not snatches of the conversation evoked her curiosity.

"So," said Magda. "How did it go with Maxie? Did you stir him up a bit?

"I think so," said Harry hesitantly. "I praised the Brown women to him, I said Marion was a fine looking older woman etc. Oh, but my finest moment was when I brought up something I'd seen in Marion's bedroom…"

"Hang on, you never mentioned this to me! When were you there?" Magda interrupted suspiciously

"Now, now dear, calm down. I was there to fix her carpet. Of course, I didn't tell Max that…"

"And I suppose he was too frightened to ask?"

"Yes, though I must say…"

Harry didn't get to finish his sentence, because it was at that point that his indignant almost-daughter-in-law burst through the door and angrily stared at him and his wife. It was plain to see that she was not pleased with what she had heard and that she wasn't going to leave until she got some answers.


	9. Parents & Priests

**Thanks MissLala and firebird for you faithful reviewing!**

**MissLala, I wasn't sure if you were implying I was conceived in a haystack in Oxfordshire or got up to no good myself in one, but as the only person I've been there with in adult life is my brother it's a very big EEEEEEWWWWWWWWW to both options :)**

**And firebird, I've provided most of the things you requested and held off on others...**

(i)

Roger noticed Annie was standing in the corner looking preoccupied. He decided to go over and see what was on her mind.

"So, what's with the sad face then?"

Annie shrugged her shoulders at him. "What can I say? I go away for a few months and come back and it's like everyone I left behind has gone a bit crazy. Does that make sense?"

Roger chuckled, "I've only met this lot once before, and they've seemed crazy both times! But if you're referring to Millie, I must say, even though I wouldn't call her crazy, she does seem a little sad."

The door of the vestry opened, and Fr. Bourke finally appeared.

"I suppose we should get everyone together," suggested Annie.

"OK," said Roger, "Now let's see, I think Max and his sisters and Mrs. Brown are outside watching Thomas play, the Carters were in the crying room, and Millie…"

"I think Millie is with the Carters, actually," said Annie. "You get the others, I'll go to them."

(ii)

"Millie, darling…" Magda began falteringly.

"Just what are you two playing at?" demanded Millie angrily.

"What exactly did you hear?" asked Harry, trying to ascertain how much they actually needed to confess to.

"What did I hear? I heard you crowing about sullying my mother's name to torment the man I'm about to marry! And, you know what? I can't think of any possible reason anyone would have for doing such a thing!"

Magda ran over and put an arm around Millie.

"Can't you darling? Do you mean to tell me you didn't hear what Maxie and the girls were saying about their father?"

Millie frowned, "About him and my mother you mean?"

"Yes, about me and your mother," replied Harry.

"So that's not true then?"

"No, of course it's not." Despite taking care not to appear angry, Harry said this with considerable spirit. "Millie, I can understand you might think what you like about me, but do you really think your mother would do such a thing?"

"To be honest, no, I don't." Millie had always suspected her mother was basically sexless.

Magda took over. "Darling, put yourself in our place. Our children came to see me last week and said they all believed their father was…acting inappropriately with your mother. Harry knew something had been said, so later when he asked me about it, I told him. He was upset, to say the least."

"I was hurt, Millie," collaborated Harry.

"So," continued Magda, "We decided we should teach our children a lesson about jumping to conclusions…"

"Abusing my mother's good name in the process!" interrupted Millie angrily.

Harry took over, "Now Millie, I would never do that! I am very fond of your mother, though obviously not as fond as some people might think."

"Well then what was all this I overheard about you boasting you were in her bedroom?"

"Ah, well, yes, I did say that, but only because I thought it was, um, _suggestive_ of something going on. I wanted to make Max curious, but I wasn't doing so by making things up. I just didn't tell the whole truth. Anyway, I said something equally suggestive about Magda to balance things out a bit."

"Did you, darling? What did you say?" asked Magda, looking fondly at her husband.

"Just that when you were young you had a naughty peasant girl quality about you," Harry winked at her.

Millie saw the look they were giving each other, "OK, please, I'd rather you save that for later…"

"Sorry, my dear," said Harry.

"Getting back to the point, you were tormenting Max by talking about your…feelings for various women," said Millie.

"That's right. I was trying to get him to see me as an admirer of women generally. The whole adulterer tag didn't sit well with me," confirmed Harry.

Millie really didn't know what to say. She still felt protective of both her mother and Max – and Mag and Johanna, come to think of it – but she had to admit in some ways they all had brought this on themselves. Her mother was undeniably flirting with Harry and competing with Magda, and Max and his sisters did jump in and not give their father the benefit of the doubt.

She rubbed her eyes with her hands. It was far too much for her to think about. Anyway, soon it wouldn't be her problem. Soon they would all be left to their own devices, and she wouldn't be there to intervene.

The Carters stood watching Millie, waiting for her to say something. They were all startled by a knock on the door.

Annie poked her head around the door. "Um, sorry to interrupt. Fr. Bourke is ready now."

"OK. We're on our way," replied Millie.

Annie shut the door behind her.

Millie looked at her in-laws and sighed deeply. "Fine. I won't say anything. After all, they're your children to discipline. Just…be sensitive to my mother's feelings, all right? She may seem to have moved on, but she misses my dad dreadfully."

Harry placed a hand on Millie's arm. "We both know that my dear, don't worry. And I promise, if I thought she was interested in me, I would set her straight immediately. I have no desire to hurt her, or lead her on either."

Magda gave Millie a quick kiss before guiding her through the now open door.

"Thank you darling," she whispered.

(iii)

Everyone else was assembled at the front of the church when Millie and Max's parents arrived. Max, Mag and Johanna observed the demeanour of the three late arrivals and all came to the conclusion that words had been exchanged.

"What do you think's gone on there?" whispered Mag at her sister over Thomas's head.

"Maybe they've been talking about Dad and Marion?" suggested Johanna.

Nothing more was said after Magda plonked herself down beside her son. Harry meanwhile had paused to offer Marion a fortifying pat on the shoulder in preparation for what she was about to endure. Like Marion, he hadn't been raised Catholic, but he had converted when he married Magda. He knew too well how strange a lot of the customs and trappings of the Church could appear to the uninitiated.

Millie sat herself down beside her mother and sister and glanced over at Max and the girls, all of whom were visibly unsettled by what their father had done, and were glaring at him as he walked towards them. As she thought more about what Max's parents had said, Millie wondered if they were correct in thinking they could carry out their little plan without injuring her mother in the process. Millie examined her mother as she sat beside her. True to what had become her form, Marion was making absolutely no effort to hide her displeasure for the position in which she currently found herself. She cast a distainful eye over all she beheld, reserving a particularly uncharitable look for the man of the cloth who was standing at the centre of the aisle in front of the altar, smiling at the assembled party as he opened his mouth to address them.

_If nothing else, this is going to be interesting!_ thought Millie, as Fr. Bourke started to speak.

"Welcome everybody and thank you for your patience while I was caught up with taking care of some of my other parishioners. Now, we are gathered here together tonight to help prepare Max and Molly…"

"Millie," corrected Max quickly. He sensed from the withering glare emanating from his mother-in-law that if he didn't jump in first, she'd be setting the good Father straight in no uncertain terms.

"Right, sorry, Max and Millie to undertake the sacrament of marriage, which they will doing…" he squinted his eyes at his notebook, "oh, so soon! Saturday week. Now, Max, as a practical Catholic, you are probably pretty familiar with the Church's teachings regarding marriage, yes?"

Max had never paid much attention to such things, but nodded. Marion snorted.

"Now, as for you, Millie, you weren't brought up Catholic, were you?"

Millie's concentration had returned to her increasingly irritated mother for fear of what she might do next, and it took her a few moments to realise Fr. Bourke was waiting for an answer from her.

"Sorry?" she said.

Magda was on edge after her talk with Millie, and feared that Millie might be having second thoughts about marrying her son as a consequence. She found herself nervously jumping in

"Fr. Bourke was just saying you weren't raised in the True Faith."

These words, particularly coming as they did from Magda, were the final straw for Marion Brown.

"The _'True Faith_'? I'll have you know, my daughter knows all anyone need know about _'true faith'_! Her father and I brought both our girls up in a Christian household, guided by the tenets of the Anglican Church. She was taught all about faith, and sacraments for that matter!"

Magda realised that she had said the wrong thing, but she wasn't about to admit it, especially in light of how Marion was responding. Magda was on the verge of standing up to defend her Church and her priest against this Godless Jezebel, but Max and Harry both sharply pulled her back down into her seat. As the two matriarchs stared each other down across the aisle, their respective offspring desperately tried to think of a means of preventing the seemingly now inevitable clash, other than the very tempting method of gagging them both.

They needn't have troubled themselves, as Harry calmly stepped in to save the day.

"Perhaps this argument can be settled by a demonstration of which of the two denominations can show the better example of Christian charity and forgiveness?" he suggested, focusing his eyes on the large crucifix that loomed above the altar.

Marion and Magda both shifted their gazes to the front of the church, and fell sulkily silent.

Fr. Bourke had conducted one or two marriage services between his own flock and non-Catholics in his time, and was completely unfazed by Mrs. Brown's outburst. He smiled to himself, though, at Harry Carter's humble handling of these two matronly religious zealots. But, being in no doubt as to which faith his loyalties lay, he didn't hesitate to get in a little dig of his own.

"Oh, so Millie was raised an Anglican was she? Well, then, that shouldn't be so much of a problem. Most of the traditions of the High Anglican Church are, shall we say, 'borrowed' from Roman Catholicism, give or take a few things that we may have done away with in the passing of time, but that's neither here nor there really…"

Marion fumed anew. She turned angrily towards Millie, who gave her mother such a 'Don't you dare ruin this for me!' look that Marion didn't attempt to challenge her. She huffily folded her arms and said nothing, though she was very tempted to after she glanced over at Magda and saw the smug look of triumph on her face.

"Moving along now," continued Fr. Bourke, "Let's start with a run through of the actual ceremony while everyone's here, then perhaps everyone else can depart and I'll have a few quiet words to Max and Millie." He nodded in Max's direction and registered for the first time that the bride and the groom weren't even sitting together. This struck him as a bit odd. He knew that the toddler sitting with the Carters was Max and Millie's, so they'd been together long enough to be over the first flush of love, but nevertheless, organising a wedding was generally the kind of thing that most couples, or at least compatible couples, did together. Maybe these two required more than the standard forty-five minute pre-marriage session?

Then again, he thought, maybe these seating arrangements just indicated that they very wisely recognised it was best for each of them to keep an eye on their volatile mothers...

Fr. Bourke directed Max and his parents to wait at the front of the church, with young Thomas playing the role of a substitute best man. Marion sat in the front pew on the bride's side of the church while Millie, Roger and the girls all departed to the back of the church to make their practice walk down the aisle.

"Now," Fr. Bourke said loudly so they could hear him down the back. "The music has started playing, can the bridesmaids make their way to the front?"

Mag, Annie and Johanna moved along to an imaginary bridal march.

"Lovely, now can we have the bride and her, um, and the person giving her away?"

Roger offered Millie his arm with a smile and they made their way down the aisle.

"Right, then, bridesmaids to the side, and you, um, Roger, you present Millie to the groom and take a seat beside Mrs. Brown."

Fr. Bourke watched the interaction of Millie and Max once Millie had been delivered very closely. Though smiles and the odd affectionate gesture were exchanged he sensed a degree of awkwardness from both sides. In fact, the tension only evaporated once Thomas had jumped between them and demanded to be cuddled by both his parents.

_Definitely need more than the forty-five minutes,_ the priest thought to himself.

The bridesmaids stood slightly out of the way and Mag took advantage of their isolation to do a little digging into what was going on with Millie.

"So Annie, did you get a chance to talk to Millie on the way here?"

"Yes, why?" asked Annie, who had been expecting this question.

"It's just, Millie hasn't seemed to be herself recently, and, well, she said something that got Max rather worried."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She asked him if he'd be able to cope with Thomas without her."

Annie just nodded and said nothing.

Mag could see she was going to have to do some probing. "So, did she say anything along those lines to you?"

"Sorry Mag, I can't say anything. I think it's up to Millie to speak to Max really."

"Yeah, I know you can't betray her trust, but it just sounds like Millie's thinking of leaving them, which just seems inconceivable…"

"How so?" asked Annie. "Millie looked after Thomas for the first few months without Max, shouldn't he be able to look after him now without her?"

Mag was taken aback by how much in support of the scheme Annie seemed to be. "I suppose you're right, but it does seem a little extreme, surely?"

Annie sighed. "Maybe you're right. All I know is that my sister is exhausted. Maybe she feels Thomas might be better off without her? Anyway, I see Mum's giving Roger a hard time again, so if you'll excuse me."

Mag nodded and watched as Annie made her way over to rescue Roger. Johanna stepped closer to her sister.

"So, did you learn anything?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Annie wouldn't say it outright, but Millie is certainly thinking of leaving Max alone with Thomas. And you know, she didn't actually seem to see anything strange about it. I had thought it was just Marion who was detached about children, but maybe all of them are like that?"

Johanna was as worried as her sister, but she just couldn't see the Millie she had got to know doing something like that. "There must be more to it than that. Why would she turn up here today if she wasn't still set on marrying Max?"

The two sisters turned their attention to their brother and his bride to be, who currently stood together at the alter, smiling down on their deliriously happy son. They couldn't help but wonder if they were going to get the chance to see this scene re-enacted in little over a week's time.


	10. The Priest, The Bride & The Groom

Once the rest of the party had left the church, Fr. Bourke ushered Max and Millie in to enjoy the austere comforts of the sitting room in the adjoining presbytery. He furnished them both with a luke warm cup of instant coffee and a stale biscuit, and sat himself down between them.

"So," he began. "How are we feeling about the advent of the big day?"

Neither Millie nor Max knew quite what to say. The thought of the wedding filled them both with dread, but each desperately wanted to keep this from the other. Millie knew that if their silence went on too long it would raise suspicions, so she quickly thought up a reply.

"I suppose I feel like it's come around very quickly," she said.

"And is everything organised? The food, the dress, the rings?"

"Yes," said Millie. "We've tried to keep things as simple as possible…"

"Neither of us really wanted a big wedding," explained Max.

Fr. Bourke leant forward and looked intently at each of them in turn. "Should I be reading anything into that?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" demanded Max. This was really not the type of question he wanted to have to answer in front of Millie, or hear her answer to, for that matter.

The priest continued, "I mean, are you both sure this is what you really want?"

"Yes!" Max and Millie replied in unison. Fr. Bourke saw their lack of hesitation as the only positive sign he had been given regarding their relationship so far, although he did detect they both responded with perhaps just a little too generous a dose of insistence.

"Good, good," he mumbled, shelving the direct approach for the moment. It was obviously just going to made them both defensive. He sensed it was time to employ a more subtle means of getting to the bottom of whatever was going on between these two. "How long have your parents been married, Max?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh…um," Max had never been the type to take note of these things. He was even having trouble remembering how old Johanna was to use her as a guideline. "Nearly, no actually, more than 45 years...I think."

"Forty-five years," repeated Fr. Bourke admiringly. "And there they were tonight, a proud example of how to conduct a successful marriage even after all that time."

Max spluttered on his instant coffee. Successful marriage? If only Fr. Bourke knew...

The priest went on, "You know, I see them here every Sunday, very much united, sitting together in the pew surrounded by children, and grandchildren, always excited by the prospect of welcoming new members to the family. They welcomed you and Thomas, Millie. And I wonder, did either of you notice what passed between your father, Max, and your mother, Millie, today at the church?"

This question had both of them dumbstruck. Had they missed something and what had the priest made of it? Fr. Bourke filled in the blank for them.

"It was a gesture that your father made, Max, to Millie's mother when she was sitting there, apparently feeling very uncomfortable in a church not of her own faith. Harry sensed her need, Max, and gave her a pat on the arm as if to say, 'It's OK. You're not alone. You're part of our family now.' It was a truly Christian act, and looking at the faces of your and your sisters, Max, I think you were moved by the significance of it too."

Max couldn't argue with that. He and his sisters had been moved by his father's gesture all right! Not quite the way the good Father believed, however. Max wondered if Fr. Bourke's naive take on things was due to his priestly vow of celibacy, which he was sure would be enough to hinder any man's ability to think straight.

"But back to the point. Max, Millie, do you have any suggestions as to why Max's parents' marriage is so strong?"

Max said nothing. The only reason he could think of that they managed to stay married was that his father had the shed to retreat to.

Millie gave a strange little laugh, "Well, it could be because they have common interests, or at least things they like to do together," she suggested enigmatically.

This reply baffled Max. No wonder Millie had never shown an inclination towards joining CID! Was she so incredibly unobservant, or had she paid so little attention to what actually went on in his family for the almost two years in which she had been involved with them? When did his parents ever do things together? But then it occurred to him that perhaps she was trying to protect his parents' image in the eyes of their priest, and for this he was grateful.

Fr. Bourke had no idea what the Carters did with themselves outside of his church, so he just accepted that Millie had a superior knowledge of their situation to him and nodded.

"That's so important for any couple, you know. Especially at this time in their lives, when all their children are off their hands and have families of their own. So many times a couple will devote their lives to raising their family and find they have nothing in common once the children have moved on. This obviously hasn't happened to your parents, Max. And I take it, Millie, that your parents' marriage was solid up until your father's unfortunate passing?"

"Yes it was," said Millie. She didn't add she'd always sworn to do all in her power not to replicate her parents' marriage in her own relationships.

"So, you've both had good role models for married life. That's a good start, but it's not really enough. Now, I saw you with your son before. You're both obviously devoted parents."

"Thank you," said Millie, sure there was more to what he said than just paying them a compliment.

"You know," Fr. Bourke went on, "When I'm talking to couples such as yourselves who are on the verge of making this lifelong commitment to each other, there's one piece of advice I always stress above all the others. And you know what that is?"

Millie felt it was Max's turn to answer a question, so she gave Max a glare, cueing him that he should at least make a polite acknowledgement.

"No, please tell us," obliged Max robotically.

"I tell them that children are wonderful and really enrich your life together, but the main priority in a marriage should be your relationship with each other. Now, tell me, do you remember what it was that brought you together in the first place?"

Max and Millie's eyes met and for the first time that day they felt unified, as the glimmer of a shared joke past between them. What do you say to a priest when the answer to his question was that you had got pissed and ended up accidentally making a baby?

Something in the look the couple exchanged gladdened the priest and gave him hope that things weren't as bleak between these two as he had feared. He smiled too.

"Go on, don't be shy. You can tell me. There's very little I haven't heard before you know. And I won't repeat anything to your mother, Max," he added.

Max shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. It never seemed fair to him somehow that no matter how many criminals he arrested or cases he solved, everyone in the seemingly vast orbit of his family's world still saw him as a Magda's Little Boy! But what really annoyed him was the way Fr. Bourke's reassurances had almost made him feel comfortable enough to answer him.

Instead, Millie answered again, "We got together a few months after I had our son."

Fr. Bourke frowned. "I see. Max, why weren't you involved in Millie's or the child's lives before then?"

They both shuffled this time. "Well, I didn't know about Thomas until some one at work told me. Then, of course I wanted to be involved in his life straight away."

"I must say, this is irregular. May I ask the circumstances of Thomas's conception?" asked the priest.

"No," replied Millie firmly. Not having been raised a Catholic, she saw no reason to be intimidated by this man to reveal aspects of her personal life that he would only judge her for. "You may not. But let's just say it was an unplanned pregnancy."

Fr. Bourke said nothing. His mind wandered to the stand of pamphlets by the church door. Perhaps he should have, several years ago, presented Max with the one regarding the virtue of abstinence? Or maybe, seeing as that horse had well and truly bolted, he could send them off tonight with the one about the Rhythm Method? Oh well, it was too late now really and anyway, once they were married, every child they had would be a blessing. His attention turned to the clock and he was surprised at how late it was. He stood up to indicate that their session was over.

"All right then, in the week leading up to your wedding, will you two do something for me? I want you to think about what brought you together in the first place. Try and spend some time alone together. Max, I know your family is full of willing babysitters."

Millie reflected that her plans for the near future were going to make it very difficult for her and Max to spend any time together.

Max stood up and reached over and shook Fr. Bourke's hand. The priest walked them to the front door.

"Remember what I said: learn to concentrate on each other, and you'll be fine. I'll see you next Saturday, but you know where to find me if you need to talk before then."

He stood at the door and watched as Max and Millie walked out together towards their cars. He honestly didn't know what to make of that pair. It was probably best for him to give them another call before the big day, just to make sure they were doing the right thing. He didn't want to be responsible for performing a ceremony that bound them both to an unhappy fate.

"Am I glad to be out of there!" huffed Max.

"If only I'd known marrying a Catholic would be so difficult!" laughed Millie.

The insecure part of Max prevented him taking her comment with the lightheartedness with which it was intended

"You don't really mind that much, do you Millie?" he asked. "We needn't have gone for a church wedding if you didn't want to."

"No, it's OK, we had to keep you're mother happy," said Millie as she unlocked her car. "So, I'll see you back at the house then?"

"OK. I won't be long," Max kissed Millie on the cheek to say goodbye. Max stood and watched her drive away, wondering what was going on. That parting comment about his mother had just added to his fears. It would be interesting to see what happened when he got home.

(ii)

Millie went straight up to the garret and collected a moderately large suitcase with wheels, which she brought to their bedroom and unzipped. She then flung open the doors of her wardrobe to decide what she should be packing. Of course, the first thing in there that caught her eye in the wardrobe was her wedding dress. She was tempted to undo its black plastic casing, but stopped herself, knowing that seeing the dress would just upset her. She couldn't afford to be maudlin while she was doing this. She made her way over to her chest of drawers, which also contained things she needed to pack. While going through one drawer she came across a white bikini she hadn't worn since before Thomas was born. Should she? Was she brave enough? She look it from the drawer and threw it into the case amongst her undies, bras and teeshirts.

Millie was rifling around amongst her shoes when she was startled by a voice.

"Planning on going somewhere?"

Millie turned to see Max had entered the room. She knew she couldn't put off talking to him any longer.

"Yes, actually," she replied.

"Are you leaving me?" Max asked as calmly as he could in the circumstances.

Millie was surprised that Max would even think that, and replied in confusion, "No! Well, yes, but..."

"Which is it?" Max blurted out the words before he could stop himself.

"I've made plans to go away for the weekend," Millie announced.

"Oh," said Max, not quite sure what else to say. He was relieved it was just for the weekend, but on the other hand he didn't like the idea of her going away without him.

"Are you okay with that?" asked Millie, moving closer to him and grasping his hands. "It's just I, I don't know - I think need a break."

Max didn't like the idea that she might need a break from him either, but he remembered his sisters' advice. "If that's what you need, then I won't stop you. But I have to ask. Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?"

Millie shrugged, "I'm not sure. Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?"

"I'm not sure either," admitted Max.

"Well, since I got home I've been thinking about what Fr. Bourke was saying and I've had to ask myself: would we even be together at all if not for Thomas?"

Max didn't answer her. He didn't need to. They both knew the answer was no.

"Then, Max, should we really be getting married at all if that's they only reason we're together?"

"Wait a minute," said Max. "It may have been the reason we got together to start with, but there are so many other reasons we're together now. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to return to a life without you in it!"

Millie felt reassured enough by this to move closer to Max and embrace him.

"I think I feel the same way," she said. "But I need to be sure. Will you let me have these few days to think?"

"Do I have a choice?" asked Max, putting his hand under her chin to turn her to face him. "Go on, you do what you have to do. But can I just say this? Getting married was something I never wanted to do - in fact my entire adult life I avoided getting myself in situations where this might be an issue. But I was - I _am_ prepared to marry you. Doesn't that count for something?"

Millie looked into Max's eyes and knew that he was speaking from the heart. She didn't know what to say, and she ran her hand over his cheek and gave him a half smile. Yes, that did count for something, but what exactly, she had no idea.


	11. The Parting

**Thanks MissLala yet again for sharing your expertise!**

(i)

Max woke in the dawn light of the following morning and sleepily shifted himself into a more comfortable position. In doing so, he found himself facing the still sleeping Millie. Ever so gently, he reached across and brushed a lock of hair that had been resting on her nose to the side so he could get the full view of her face. Millie was deeply asleep and the soft touch of his hand didn't disturb her. The peacefulness of her visage and the half smile that she wore as she slept seemed to Max to belie the worries and burdens he was now aware she felt were overtaking her.

The feelings that came over Max as he watched her lying there were almost like an ache. As he looked at her, he had no doubt whatsoever that she was central to his life. He thought back to what he had said last night. 'I'm prepared to marry you' - like he was marrying her purely to accommodate some whim of hers. What the hell was he thinking? Why couldn't he have said what he really felt, something along the lines of 'Stay with me. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone'? If he had only said something like that, perhaps everything would have been put right between them. Instead here he was beside her, overflowing with a love he had always failed to express to her. As the cliché would have it, he felt so near to her and yet so far. The realisation that she was going away that evening flooded back to him, along with the recognition that once he was face to face with her again, both of them conscious, he would most likely be as stupidly tongue-tied about how he felt as he had been the preceding evening.

Millie stirred slightly in her sleep, her movement so slow and seductively feline that Max's ache of love for her began to mingle with a physical longing. He started to toy with the idea of waking her with gentle kisses and touches until her arousal equalled or even surpassed his own and he brought her to a place that would silence any doubts she might have about the strength of his love for her. He hated the phrase 'making love' but some 'having sex', 'shagging' or even 'fucking' seemed to fall short of the power of the feelings he was currently having for her. He pictured them wrapped in each other, whispering expressions of love and longing, moving as one until they became so melded it would seem impossible for anything to ever break them apart.

But then his imaginings became too melancholic for Max to endure. Waking her and making love to her now, in the full knowledge of her imminent departure, would seem almost like too final a farewell for him. With a deep sigh he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up with a view to starting his day.

This time, his movement woke Millie, who opened her eyes and looked across the bed at him. The sight of her naked almost-husband pleased her, but like him the thought of acting on any of the passionate yearnings she felt stirring up inside her was tainted by the knowledge of their separation that evening. This did not, however, mean the idea of lying for a little while in each other's arms wasn't appealing to her.

"Oi," she said so unexpectedly that Max jumped.

He turned to face her and responded to the warm smile on her face in kind.

Millie threw back the bedclothes and patted the mattress. "I feel like being held," she pouted.

Max lay back down and rolled towards her, pulling the covers over them on his way. He slipped one arm around Millie's shoulder and pulled her closer with other one as she snuggled herself into position with her head resting on his chest. Neither of them said anything for a while. Millie closed her eyes and reflected on how protected and secure she felt. It was almost enough to make her contemplate cancelling her trip. But then the alarm clock sounded, and the romantic vision of their life together was shattered. It was a work day, and it was time for her play working wife and mother.

At the sound of his alarm, Max would usually leap out of bed and rush to organise himself so he would get to work on time, but today he wanted to buck the trend. For the next three mornings he would be waking up without Millie by his side, so he stubbornly stayed put so as to wallow in the togetherness of this moment just a little longer.

Millie was surprised by his lack of action, "Aren't you getting up then?" she asked.

Max rolled her towards him and kissed her hair, "Not yet. I want to stay here holding you while I can. That is, unless you want me to get up…" he added uncertainly.

"No!" said Millie clutching him tighter. "This is nice. How often do we get a chance to just lie here together? Surely we can spend ten minutes like this?"

Max looked nervously at the clock and calculated if he really could spare ten minutes and still get to work on time. Millie read his expression and smiled.

"All right, then, five minutes," she laughed, craning her neck up to kiss his lips.

Max smiled and swept a hand across her forehead to brush her hair from her face. He looked into her eyes and held her gaze for so long a time and with such intensity, it was almost like a spell had been cast over both of them. Neither of them seemed to be able to look away. And the effect it had on them was more potent than any amount of foreplay. Soon their mouths were drawn together and they were kissing each other hungrily.

Millie began to think she would do whatever he said. _How could I even think of leaving him?_ she thought to herself. Right then, if Max had asked her not to go, she would have readily acquiesced.

As his hands became more adventurous, Max found himself believing that everything had been restored to where it should be in his world. Once again that inner-voice was telling him: _Sex is the solution to everything_…

Max had just made up his mind it was time to move his mouth from Millie's and step things up a notch when a loud, familiar thump echoed down the hallway. It was the sound of a toddler kicking impatiently on his cot.

Still clinging to each other, Max and Millie abruptly sat up in the bed.

"Do you think we woke him?"

"How? All we were doing was kissing!"

"Well, Max, maybe you're a noisy kisser? After all you are a noisy eater…"

Max rolled Millie onto her back and recommenced kissing her. "But we hadn't even got to that stage yet! However, we could test your theory…"

"I didn't mean that," laughed Millie, nipping his lip slightly to chastise him. "I meant with food! In fact your whole family are. Must be a Catholic thing!"

Max feigned indignation. "There you go again. My family will never be good enough for yours, will they?" The mention of their families reminded him of the problem of his father and Mrs. Brown. Until that moment he had all but forgotten about that particular horror. But this disagreeable memory was not enough to deter him from his seduction of Millie, and his mouth turned its attention to her neck.

_Thump! _The sound seemed more insistent this time. _Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! _

"Mumeeeeeeee!" came a cry from down the hallway.

Max and Millie stopped, looked at each other and sighed. They reluctantly separated their limbs before each rolling to their side of the bed and finding something to put on so they could tend to their demanding son.

"Do you want me to go see to him?" offered Max, making sure Millie knew from now on he'd be better at doing his share.

Millie was touched that he was making an effort. "No, it's okay. You'll be late for work as it is. I'm not expected in until 10 anyway."

"All right, I'll go shower then,"

Millie slipped on her robe and walked down the passageway to Thomas's room. The boy was standing in the cot, arms outstretch, waiting for her.

"Good morning, my darling," Millie said as she cuddled him. She thought about how tomorrow morning she would not be there to greet him. A big part of her was saddened by this, but then somewhere deep inside her there was ever increasing portion that was quietly celebrating. Or, more accurately, it was rolling over in bed and going back to sleep for another couple of hours.

(ii)

On the way to work Max rang the younger of his two sisters, whom he knew would be eager for an update.

"Mag, it's me."

"Maxie! What's happening? I've been dying to find out, but I didn't dare ring."

"Well, to cut a long story short, Millie's going to Brighton tonight and she's staying for the weekend."

"And she's leaving Thomas with you?"

Max would have liked Mag to have shown a bit more confidence in his fathering skills. "Yes, I am looking after my son. What? Don't you think I'm capable…"

"Sorry Max. Of course I know you're capable. But just as long as you know we're all here if you need any help too. Anyway, I think that's a great idea of Millie's. The break will do her the world of good."

"You think so?" asked Max.

"I do. It's probably just what she needs. Thank god it wasn't as bad as we feared! I had visions of her going off to start a new life without you and Thomas…"

"Well I'm grateful you didn't share these visions with me then! But that's better than the idea you put into my head that she was about to kill herself!"

"Maxie! Did we make you think that? I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry Mag. It's all right now."

"We just wanted you to be a bit more aware of her feelings, that's all."

"I know, I know. Anyway, I'll collect Thomas after work and then he and I will see Millie off at the station. Then apparently Annie's meeting her there on Saturday and they're driving home together Sunday."

"It's good she'll have her sister there to talk to. I'll let you go now, but give me a call once you get back from dropping her off, eh?"

"Will do. Speak to you then."

(iii)

Max, Millie and Thomas were on the platform at Victoria Station. It was just about time for Millie's train to leave. Millie took Thomas in her arms and gave him a big squeeze and a cuddle, but the child was more interested in observing the exciting things that were going on around him, with his attention especially focused on the train Mummy was about to hop into.

Millie handed Thomas to Max, and both parents thought how it would take Mummy not being there at bedtime before Mummy's absence would really hit the boy. With his free arm, Max embraced Millie and placed a lingering kiss on the cheek. He put his hand up to her face and stroked it.

"Now, do you have everything you need?" he asked by way of distracting himself from the knowledge that he was already feeling the loss of her.

Millie put her hands on her various pockets and looked down at her suitcase. "Ticket. Clean clothes, sun hat, swimsuit and sunglasses. Mini skirt and condoms…"

"Hey!" said Max sternly.

"Only joking darling," Millie said innocently.

"I thought jokes were supposed to be funny!" Max frowned.

Millie kissed him again.

"I'd best be boarding now. I'll miss you two."

"We'll miss you too. Call us when you arrive," said Max, kissing her again.

Millie climbed into the train and waved to Thomas and Max from the door. Then she looked into the carriage for a seat. Before she was able to walk away, Max was calling after her.

"Millie!" he said.

Millie returned to the door. "Yes?" she smiled.

It took a moment or two for Max to find the courage to utter the words he wanted to say. "Come back to me, won't you?" he said.

"I will," she said, believing she spoke the truth and hoping nothing was going to happen to change her mind.

The doors shut and train started to pull away. After staring forlornly at the train as it departed, Max and Thomas silently turned and made their way to the car.


	12. Night Terrors and Daytime Delights

(i)

The faint sound of his son moaning in his sleep woke Max at 2am his first night without Millie. The really unfair thing about this was that Max had only just, half an hour ago, managed to drift off himself. Thankfully Thomas fell quiet again, but Max's sleep had been disturbed to such a degree that he knew it would be a while before he would fall under again. Ordinarily when his sleep was interrupted he would roll over to the middle of the bed and wrap an arm around Millie, or his movement would stir her to turn towards him and slip her arm around his chest. Under these circumstances, Max found he would soon be able to sleep again. But tonight there would be no such source of comfort. It felt like all around him there was nothing but emptiness.

Max lay on his back in the darkness with his hands behind his head, thinking. Or, more specifically, thinking about what Millie meant to him. Until Max had found himself attached to Millie, his sisters had been the only women with whom Max had ever allowed himself to form a strong emotional connection. This was not to say that there hadn't been many women in his life. There had even been a few who had hung around waiting for things to 'progress to the next stage'. But they never did, so these women eventually gave up and moved on. This didn't especially bother Max. It never seemed right to him to be expected to make an effort when it came to the opposite sex. A psychologist might trace this back to his relationships with his over-indulgent but emotionally distant mother and largely absent father. The example he had been given led him to believe that 'love' was something bestowed upon him as a birthright and it manifest itself through someone catering to his material wants. That some of the women he knew expected things like commitment or devotion in return seemed unreasonable to him.

So Max had quite happily resigned himself to the expectation of travelling life's path alone, with the odd 'comfort stop' along the way. But then he had got Millie pregnant. The almost sacred regard that children were accorded in his family made it impossible for him to even consider pretending the child didn't exist. And once he had acknowledged the child he had no choice but to acknowledge its mother. His entire perspective on Millie was altered by her status as Mother of His Child. Millie had turned out to be nothing like he'd expected from their interactions up until that point. Instead of behaving like he presumed any woman would and taking advantage of having successfully 'trapped' the highly desirable entity that was Max Carter, she had made it clear that his relationship was with his son, not her. She had held him at a distance and despite his and his family's best efforts, had declared that she was strong enough to cope without him and unless he could offer something special, she had no interest in anything further from him. This had added a whole new, very desirable dimension to her in Max's eyes. What was it about this seemingly unobtrusive woman that made her resistant to the charms that had worked on so many women before her? Here she was, with more right to demand from him than anyone and yet she requested nothing. For the first time in his life he became the pursuer and had done all he could to claim her as his own. And then, stupidly, once he had her he had taken her for granted...

Max rolled onto his side. He realised it was more than just his bed that felt empty without Millie. He needed her to put his mind at ease was well. At times in his life, especially in the still blackness of the night, Max would find himself tormented by dark thoughts. It wasn't that he had started off life as an unhappy person, or that his childhood had soured his outlook on life. Even if his parents were a bit strange, the bond with his sisters had helped him to grow up with some sense of stability, not to mention useful doses of common sense and humour. The night terrors his sisters had reminisced about soothing him out of were the types of dreams endured by most children who had an array of books, TV shows and an active imagination at their disposal. The real nightmares had started for Max from the experiences of his adult life. Although he liked to tell himself that nothing fazed him, Max was full of regrets. Beyond the standard Catholic guilt about most of the things he'd done and enjoyed through the years was the deep-buried torment about decisions, actions and their consequences through the course of his career as a police officer. The most traumatic of these was his having taken two lives while in CO19. He relived those moments he had pulled the trigger again and again in his dreams. He remembered the sounds, the smells and the bewildered expressions on the faces of his victims as they took the bullet's impact and realised that these were the last few seconds of their earthly existence, as precisely as if he were witnessing them anew.

Max had been offered counselling after each fatal shooting and had undertaken the bare minimum of sessions he could get away with. After that, he avoided discussing the subject in any detail with anyone. Sometimes people, particularly girlfriends, suggested that he needed to get his feelings about this off his chest only to find their offer of a shoulder to cry on rejected in no uncertain terms. As a work colleague of his, Millie of course knew about the shootings, but didn't try to draw him out about them, largely because she just didn't think this technique would achieve anything. But since they had become a couple and regularly shared a bed, there was no way she could ignore the impact the shootings had had on him when she saw him in his sleep, tossing, turning and muttering or even shouting phrases about putting hands on heads and dropping weapons. Her reaction to this, once he had woken in a sweaty panic, was to silently offer him her open arms and soft kisses on the top of his head. And he would willingly receive her comfort because, although he would often be still panting in fright, she would allow him the illusion that she was holding him simply as a matter of course and not because he had just emerged from what he regarded as a moment of weakness. And somehow her sheer proximity and the certainty of her love would always convince him that the past was the past and now that she was with him even his most horrific transgressions were somehow atoned and everything would be all right.

Thomas's murmuring started again. Max reflected on how Millie always seemed to know exactly the right time to intervene when Thomas got upset at night. He listened and was completely at a loss as to how she could distinguish one of Thomas's types of cries from another. Before long though, Max heard Thomas's cries starting to pick up to such an intensity that even he could hear the lad was not going to settle without parental involvement. He got out of bed and took a pair of pyjamas out of the drawer, dressed himself and wandered down the hallway.

At the sound of footsteps, Thomas's hopes grew. "Mummy! Mummy!" he called. "It's dark!"

As soon as Thomas said the word 'dark' Max realised he hadn't turned on the boy's nightlight. Millie, he knew, would never have neglected such a detail.

"It's okay, Thomas, Daddy's here now," Max said quietly as he entered the room.

Thomas was standing up in his cot. "Mummy!" he demanded, even though he eagerly reached out his arms to his father.

"No Mummy tonight, just Daddy," said Max, hugging his son. "Daddy misses Mummy too. Do you want to come sleep in Daddy's bed?"

"Yes," said Thomas, smearing a moist nose on his father's chest.

Max carried the boy back to the parental bed and placed pillows along the edge so he couldn't roll out of his mother's vacant side of it. Millie's two boys both lay on their backs for a while staring into the darkness. Max put an arm around his son and realised that they both relied on Millie to keep their night terrors at bay. Soon Thomas nodded off, snuggled against Max's back, and it wasn't long before his much comforted father followed suit.

Father and son slept together peacefully and did not wake until, after having knocked on the door to no avail, Aunty Mag had let herself in. She made her way to Max's room and took a quick picture of the two of them with her phone. It was the flash that woke Max, who sprang up and groaned at his sister.

"What?" asked Mag innocently. "I can't recall ever seeing a more beautiful sight. That one's getting sent straight to Millie."

With Thomas safely transferred into Mag's care, Max got up and went to work.

"Didn't you get much sleep last night, eh Max?" asked the DI on seeing a yawning Max entering CID, clutching a large coffee.

"Thomas kept me awake," said Max, rubbing his eyes with his hands before taking a swig.

"Isn't settling kids the little woman's responsibility?" asked Terry, winking at Stevie.

Max sighed and figured they were probably going to hear about Millie's trip next week at wedding anyway, so it was best to come clean. "Millie's gone away for the weekend," confessed Max.

Neither Stevie nor Terry knew what to say. Neil, Grace and Mickey pretended to go about their business but kept their ears pricked.

"Organising the wedding has worn her out, so she's having a break before the big day. Is that all right?" asked Max.

"Of course it is," said Terry supportively.

"Where's she gone?" asked Stevie.

"Just to Brighton."

"Brighton?" piped in Mickey with a sly smile. "Well, that's a popular destination this weekend?"

The others all looked at him, intrigued.

"What do you mean?" asked Max.

(ii)

When Millie's train arrived at Brighton in the early evening, she checked into her room, ordered a meal, ate it while watching a movie in her room, and promptly and soundly fell asleep.

She managed to only wake up twice to worry about her boys, but that didn't stop her having a good night's sleep, as there was absolutely no reason for her to get out of bed early the next day. For the first time in ages, she managed to sleep in until nearly 8 o'clock.

Over breakfast she pondered which of the many options for her day she should pursue. The image she had had in her head of what a truly relaxing holiday would involve was one of her reclining on the beach. She decided this was the activity that most appealed to her, and the day was warm enough. But what to wear? She went back to her hotel room and rummaged through her suitcase in search of her swim wear. She had brought along a choice of two costumes: her white bikini and a sensible black one piece. She picked up the bikini top and held it up against herself. She knew she used to look good in this, but that was before her body had had to deal with nurturing and feeding Thomas. But why not be brave? What was the harm at just trying it on? She slid out of her clothes and into the skimpy two-piece and looked herself over critically.

Her tummy was definitely slightly looser than the last time she worn this bikini, but on the whole she didn't think she looked half bad. She pulled at the flesh of her belly to examine the traces of the stretch marks she had developed while pregnant with Thomas. Seeing how faded they were made her feel grateful for about the first time in her life for her pale complexion. A darker skin would have certainly made more out of those fine lines. She turned around to check out the rear view in the mirror and saw that that part of her at least hadn't altered too much.

She was beginning to feel she could get away with it. After all, the only person she was going to see who knew her was her sister, who had seen this and more at Thomas's birth.

Millie wasn't quite game enough to walk around in public wearing so little. She slipped on a light cotton skirt and top, grabbed her sunhat, sunglasses and bag, and went out to brave the world.

She chose a beach chair under a big umbrella, ordered a drink before slipping off her shirt and reclining on the beach chair. She reflected that this was what a holiday was all about!

Millie would have happily fallen asleep on her beach chair had not she registered that someone seemed to be speaking to her. And the voice was vaguely familiar.

"Millie?" it said. "Millie Brown? Is that you?"

Millie peeled open an eye and looked up at the person addressing her. Tall, dark, undeniably handsome. And looking as attractive as he had the last time she had laid eyes on him at Thomas's Baptism.

"Oh my god, Will Fletcher! What are you doing here?"


	13. Just Not Max's Day

(i)

Will reached out a hand for Millie to shake. "So Millie, how are you? All set for the big day next weekend?"

"Just about," said Millie propping herself up to take Will's hand. "It's very nerve-wracking."

"I bet!" said Will, silently thinking that Millie had more reason to worry than most brides-to-be. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just needed a bit of a break before the wedding. Clear my head a bit. Working and being a mum can get a bit much."

"Sure. Look, Millie, I've got somewhere to be, but how would you feel about catching up at lunch, maybe over some fish and chips?"

Millie screened her eyes from the sun with her hand and smiled up at him. "Sounds great!"

"Okay, well, which is your hotel?"

Millie pointed.

"Same as me," smiled Will. "Let's meet in the foyer at midday?"

"See you then."

Still shielding her eyes, Millie watched Will as he walked away. She liked Will, but she did wonder if she'd done the right thing agreeing to meet him. She knew Max probably wouldn't like it. But what harm would it do? She knew she had no interest in Will that way. What remained to be seen was of course what Will thought about her.

(ii)

Everyone in CID eagerly waited for Mickey to continue.

"Remember Will Fletcher? I bumped into him the other day, asked how he was going. He said he was about to start his holidays and was spending the first few days of it in Brighton. I'm pretty sure it was this weekend."

This was not welcome news to Max. He remembered only too well the flirtatious way in which Will and Millie had interacted at Thomas's Baptism. He couldn't help but ask himself whether or not Millie and Will had planned this.

It was clear that everyone in CID thought the whole thing just as dubious as Max did.

Stevie nervously fiddled with a paper clip as she smiled at Max and said, "What a coincidence hey?"

"Brighton's a busy place," said Neil. "I doubt their paths will even cross."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with Millie catching up with an old friend anyway," said Max. His bravado didn't fool anyone.

"Of course not," lied Terry supportively.

This awkward exchange was interrupted by Max's phone ringing.

"DS Carter," he answered.

"Hello my love," came a dreamy voice.

The obvious tenderness in Millie's tone went some of the way to reassuring Max.

"Hey Babe," he replied softly. 'Babe' was Max's public epithet for Millie. He had chosen it for this role because Millie took it as being loving, but if anyone overheard him say it, it wasn't overly mawkish and (he hoped) gave the impression of a relationship based on the physical rather than pure domesticity, which was in keeping with the image he liked to portray. "How's it going?"

The rest of CID pretended to focus on other things.

"Yeah, all right. Mag sent me a lovely photo of you and Thomas. When I got it, I just had to ring you. I miss you both so much."

"We miss you too," Max said this rather quietly in the hope no one would overhear. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing much. I had breakfast then I lounged around on a deck chair. Oh, and guess who I bumped into?"

"Who?" said Max innocently.

"Will Fletcher, remember him?"

"Will?" said Max, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Of course I remember him. Say hi to him for me."

Millie was relieved at Max's response to this. She had figured it was best to let Max know of Will's presence up front, because this was the type of thing that would somehow get back to him, and god knows what Max would make of it if she kept it a secret.

"I'm meeting him for lunch, so I'll pass that on then," Millie was unsure if this was one revelation too far, but she stuck to her conviction it was best to get these things out into the open.

"Great," replied Max, the teeth-gritting smile on his face as he said this apparent to all around him.

"Anyway, I won't keep you. I know you're busy. Call me any time, and I'll ring you when you're home tonight, okay?"

"Okay, we'll speak then,"

"Bye darling."

"Bye Millie."

Not ten minutes after Max had put down the phone from Millie and informed his colleagues that she herself had mentioned Will without any hesitation, his phone rang again. This time it was his mother.

"Maxie?"

"Ma? What's up?"

"Magdalena tells me Millie had gone away by herself. Is something wrong?"

When Mag had told her mother about Millie's trip, Mrs. Carter couldn't help but wonder if the Millie's having uncovered her and her husband's scheme to teach their children a lesson had been the catalyst. She, and Harry, had been fearing they might be responsible for Millie's leaving, and it was playing on Mrs. Carter's conscience.

"Not really. She's just tired. She hasn't had a break since she got pregnant, so she wanted to make sure she was at her best for the wedding."

"So the wedding's still on?"

"Of course. So how's everyone there?"

"Well I'm the only one here. Your father's out…"

"What's he doing?"

Magda wondered if revealing Harry's whereabouts would just complicate things between Max and Millie further, but then, she was a bit worried about it. "Actually, he's over at Marion's. She had loose tiles on her roof or something."

Max was alarmed. "Dad's at Marions?" But his suspicions about what his father was really up to were soon overridden by his concern about his aged father climbing a ladder. "Dad's up on her roof?"

"Yes, darling. But he's done this kind of thing before…"

"Ma, Dad is over 70. He should not be climbing on rooves or anyone - I mean - any_thing _else either."

"Well, I was a bit worried, but what could I say?"

"Don't worry, I'm going over there right now."

"Well, if you insist darling, thank you. Tell me how you go."

"I will. Speak to you later." Max grabbed his coat, explained what was happening to the DI and left.

Magda hung up the phone and thought proudly how responsible her son was being. She had been worried about her husband prancing around roof tops at his age, but there was also the part of her that secretly feared there was something going on between Harry and Marion, despite what her husband said. Not that she didn't trust him, but was anyone ever really 100% sure of their spouse's loyalty? If her Maxie went there and found that all was as Harry said it was, her mind could be completely at rest on the matter.

(iii)

Once Max had left the office his colleagues weren't going to let the change to gossip freely pass them by.

"So," began Stevie. "Do we think it's coincidence that Millie and Will are both holidaying at the same spot this weekend?"

"Yes," said Terry definitely.

"Not for a second," scoffed Mickey.

"What makes you so sure?" queried Terry.

"For one thing," reasoned Mickey, "I think Will's always liked Millie, and he actually asked after he when I saw him, and another, wedding's are all about the bird, aren't they? What happy bride would spend the week before her wedding doing anything but organising it?"

"That is so sexist!" objected Grace. Everyone was startled when she spoke as they didn't think she was listening.

"Here we go! I'm not being sexist, I'm simply stating the facts. Blokes don't want to get married. They only do it because their girlfriends nag them into it…"

"Oh my god!" interrupted Stevie. "I can't believe I'm hearing this! And anyway, from what I gather, it was Max's idea to get married."

"Yeah well, Max probably only told you that so he wouldn't look pussy-whipped."

"Terry, tell Mickey he's wrong!"

Terry stretched out his chin and gave his beard a contemplative scratch. "I'd love to, but now I'm thinking that Mickey's theory makes sense…"

"What are you saying?" insisted Grace. "Do you think we spend our lives waiting around for some bloke to ask us to get married?"

"Not all of you," conceded Mickey. "But then, not every woman's as content to be an old maiiii – a career woman as you seem to be."

"And you girls weren't there at Max's Stag night. I tell you, he didn't look like a one-woman man that night. If that stripper hadn't turned him down…"

"The stripper turned him down?" said Stevie.

"Well, I'm presuming. No man in his right mind would turn down such a fine piece of snat…"

"Ah, ha! No man in his right man would, but a man in love might!" Grace was looking very pleased with herself. It was like she was daring the boys to challenge her logic.

"Too right, Grace!" agreed Stevie. "And you boys weren't at the Hen's night. You didn't see Millie and her stripper. There was certainly the chance of something happening there!"

"In short, all we've done is reached the conclusion that neither Max or Millie want to get married. Maybe it's for the best then if Will offers them a way out?" said Terry.

Stevie held her two hands in front of her as if weighing something up, "Will…" she said lowering one hand, "Max…" she said lowering the other. "All around nice guy…" she lowered the first hand again.

"Versus first class prick." Mickey completed the sentence for her.

"That's a bit harsh!" said Terry. "Not that I can argue with it."

Grace shrugged, "Well Millie must see something in him."

"You want to know my theory?" asked Stevie, once again using her hands to illustrate her point in such a way that no one was in doubt of what her theory was.

DI Manson poked his head out of his office. "This doesn't look or sound much like work to me!" he said.

Papers were shuffled and eyes were turned back to computer screens.

"That's more like it," continued Neil. "And just for the record, I told you Stag and Hen's nights were more trouble than they're worth!"

His subordinates looked at each other and rolled their eyes, as Neil shut his door behind him and almost smiled.

(iv)

Max walked up the path of his mother-in-law's house and rang the doorbell. _Please don't let me find them in bed together, or doing it anywhere else for that matter! _he prayed silently.

Soon Mrs. Brown appeared at the door with a welcoming smile. She grabbed Max by his upper arms and air kissed him on each cheek.

"Max, my dear, what a lovely surprise! To what do I owe this visit? Just in the neighbourhood, were you?"

"Um, actually I heard my dad was here and I wanted to see if he needed my help."

"Well, come in and I'll put on the kettle. Harry's fixing some tiles at the back of the house. Annie! Look who's here!"

Annie was sitting with her feet on the sofa and a bored look on her face. She rose to her feet when she saw Max. Although she and he had crossed swords before over his treatment of Millie, she didn't dislike him. And with Millie off enjoying a rest, Annie had nothing to hold against him that day.

"Hi Max," she said cheerfully. "How are you? You look a little tired."

Max fought to suppress a yawn. "Yeah, Thomas and I had a restless night."

"Missing Millie eh?" asked Mrs. Brown sympathetically. "I told her it wasn't a good idea to go away. A woman's place is with her husband."

"Mum, stay out of it. Millie did what she had to do. And Max understand anyway, don't you Max?"

"Sure," Max was keen to come across as the supportive partner. "But, if you don't mind, I'll just nip out the back and check on my father."

"All right dear, I'll get you some tea and biscuits while you're out there."

Max went through the sliding glass doors into Marion Brown's back garden. It was a picturesque spot. Tending to her herbs and roses was one of the ways Marion kept herself sane these days. Thomas had loved sitting in the garden to read his morning paper. Marion liked to think that keeping it the way he liked it might just persuade his spirit to keep hanging around.

Max took a few steps backwards and couldn't believe his eyes. Leant against what Max regarded to be a flimsy looking gutter was Harry's trusted, old, rickety wooden ladder. Max hated it when he was around when his dad needed someone to hold it, because it always gave him splinters. He raised his gaze to the roof itself and was greeted with an even more unbelievable sight. There was his father precariously placed on the roof's slope, not actually supporting himself by holding onto anything but relying on his sense of balance for stability.

Before Max thought, he heard himself yell out, "Dad! What do you think you're doing? Be careful!"

Up until Max made his presence known in this way, Harry had no idea he was being watched. The sound of his son's voice startled him, and his body jolted in surprise. It wasn't much of a movement, but it was enough to dislodge one of his feet from the tile on which it rested.

The sight of his father starting to slide from the roof top caused Max to jump forward in the vain hope of catching his old man before his aged bones hit the ground.


	14. On the Beach & In the Suburbs

(i)

Millie and Will sat on the wooden pier, legs dangling over the side, their fish and chips paper split open between them. Millie closed her eyes and soaked in the sun. It really was a glorious day! Not too much of a wind, warm sun streaming down on her, and undeniably pleasant company.

During a natural pause in the conversation, Millie surveyed the scene around her: the boats, the water, all of the people milling around. While she did this she absently and automatically fed herself chips without taking her eyes from the view she was enjoying. Soon her hand fell upon something decidedly unchip-like and she lowered her gaze to see she and Will had gone after the same chip. They looked at each other, and, smiling at Will, Millie pushed his hand out of the way, grabbed the chip and triumphantly stuffed it into her mouth.

"You greedy pig!" laughed Will.

"What?" Millie's words were muffled by the chip she was still in the process of masticating.

Will looked at her and said nothing. She was so cute when she was clowning around like this. There was nothing masculine about this slender redhead, but she was really delightful when she was mucking around like one of the boys. Max didn't realise how lucky he was.

"So, what plans do you have for your weekend away?" Will asked.

"Well, Annie's arriving tomorrow afternoon, so I guess I'll be spending some time with her, seeing the sights and all that. Til then I suppose I'll just laze about."

"I tell you what, seeing you're alone tonight, what say we get together for dinner? Maybe we can go somewhere a bit nice, get dressed up a little, you know?"

Millie stared down at the remaining chips and thought. Was Will asking her out for a date? Even if he wasn't, was going out with him the right thing to do? Would it upset Max, or even give Will the wrong idea? Still, a nice dinner with fun company was a tempting offer. Better than staying at home that night in front of the telly, or sitting in a bar feeling like a wallflower. And how was it any different to grabbing coffee or food with Will at work? It wasn't like she'd keep it a secret from Max or anything...

"Sounds good to me!" replied Millie.

Will snatched a small handful of chips, stuffed them in his mouth and grinned.

(ii)

Magda had been telling the truth when she said that her husband had a lot of experience with odd jobs and climbing on rooves. As soon as he felt himself starting to slide, Harry worked at slowing his progression down in the hope of finding someway of preventing what seemed inevitable. In the nick of time he managed to secure his feet on the wobbly guttering. He winced at the sensation of something in his leg tearing as one of his feet took the brunt of his body weight.

Max's shout and the sound of tools falling brought Marion and Annie out to see what was going on. Seeing Max standing under his father, momentarily at a loss as to what to do now that he hadn't had to soften his fall, Annie took charge and grabbed the splintering old ladder and moved it to within the range of Harry's legs.

"Thank you, my dear," said Harry, slowly moving the leg that hadn't taken his weight on to the top rung of the ladder, which Max was now holding. When he brought down the other foot to rest on the ladder's next rung, it was obvious to all his rescue wasn't going to be as simple as it had first appear.

"Oh my Lord!" said Harry, quickly shifting his weight back onto the other leg.

"Harry, what is it?" said a quietly panicking Marion. "Are you hurt, dear?"

"I seem to have done something to this leg. I don't think it can support me."

"All right then." Max had regained his composure and was able to think straight. "Marion, Annie, can you steady the ladder for me? I'm going to have to climb it myself and guide Dad down."

"Will it, um, is it strong enough to hold both of you?" asked Annie, hesitating about questioning the integrity of the ladder because she could see how attached Harry was to it.

"Do you have a spare ladder handy?" asked Max sarcastically. He didn't think the ladder was actually up to it, but he knew he had to risk it.

"Of course it's strong enough! It's stood the test the time! Not one of those flimsy modern contraptions!" said Harry indignantly.

"Well, let's hope you're right. Okay Dad, I'm climbing up now."

Marion and Annie both clutched the ladder and held their breaths. They watched anxiously as Max slowly made his way up, rung by rung.

"All right, Dad, I've got you," said Max once his hands were able to take hold of his father's waist. "Now take a slow step back."

Harry put a foot down on the next rung and cried out in pain.

"Okay, quickly put the other foot down, you're not going to fall I've got you."

Slowly with Max's help, Harry moved down another few rungs. Soon Max was able to stand on the ground again, at which point he lifted his father off the ladder and supported him as he stood on terra firma once again. Before he knew what he was doing, Max had his father clasped in a fierce embrace.

"Don't you ever, ever, do something that stupid again!" his muffled voice said into his father's shoulder.

Harry tried hard not to look touched by his son's reaction. "Don't talk nonsense Max, of course I'm doing it again. I would have been fine if you hadn't startled me. I knew exactly what I was doing! "

"Yeah, well in my job we're forever rescuing silly old buggers who think they know exactly what they're doing!"

"I'm not a silly old bugger, I'm your father!"

"You're both!" said Max, taking a step back from his father. Annie took one side of Harry and they helped him limp to a chair. "Now, have you got any ice?"

"I'll get it," said Annie, disappearing into the house.

"Oh, Marion, I'm sorry, I don't think I can finish your roof today," said Harry as he looked up at the dislodged tiles of her roof.

Marion looked fondly at him. "It's all right Harry, I'll get someone in to fix it."

"Nonsense! In a few days I'll be…"

"No Harry," said Marion silencing him with a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you running that sort of risk again. I can find another handyman, but my grandson doesn't have another grandfather. He needs you more than I do."

"But, you're be paying through the nose for a professional. I can't let you do that!" Harry looked towards his strapping young son.

Max realised what he was saying and sighed. He took off the work jacket that was already dirty from getting his dad from the roof, and put it on the back of a chair.

Annie appeared with the ice, which the applied to the leg Harry now had resting on a chair.

Max addressed his father, "Right, you sit here with the ice while I finish off the roof. Then I'm taking you to the doctors. Marion, can you ring Mum and tell her what's happened and get her to see if she can get an appointment?"

Marion went inside. Max looked at the roof, then at Annie, who was grinning.

"Aren't you going to take off your shirt to do that?" she asked, winking at him.

Max had to look twice at her. Sometimes she was so like Millie, it wasn't funny.

"No," he said. "I'm not." Max made his way over to his father's ladder and climbed onto the roof.

Marion returned with a tray containing four glasses and the telephone. She, Annie and Harry sat and watched Max working. Poor Max wasn't so used to this kind of physical labour and reflected he could really do without the audience.

"Look at the boy, he's got no idea! Max, that tile, it's not straight, fix it! No, that's too far the other way…Oh dear, maybe I didn't spend enough time teaching him this kind of thing when he was a lad!" moaned Harry.

Max looked down again at them all. His dad looking frustrated, Marion looking concerned and Annie looking amused.

Max nearly followed his father in a tumble to the ground when he heard Annie wolf whistling at him. He had never known Annie to be so playful. Once again he was reminded of Millie, but she was never that coarse.

He heard Marion scolding her cheeky daughter and the sound of his father laughing. With a grimace, he determined to ignore them and get back to work. But having them all watching, and Annie's behaviour in particular, were somehow making him feel really uncomfortable.

(iii)

"So, is everything all set for the wedding?" asked Will in the pause between their delectable first course and dessert. He stared at the wine glass as he said it, running his fingers over its smooth stem.

"Yes thanks," replied Millie without raising her eyes from her own glass, which contained only water. For some reason wine hadn't appealed to her after a day in the sun.

_That was a bit frosty,_ Will thought. _Well it was after all a bit of rude question._ Especially as he expected a negative answer regarding her preparedness. Somehow Millie didn't look to him like the beaming bride to be.

Will thought he'd better say something, "Look Millie, I didn't mean to offend you. But, if you don't mind me asking, as a friend, is everything okay?"

Millie knew she had probably sounded a bit defensive. Poor Will, he hadn't meant to be rude. She knew he had her best intentions at heart. "I'm sorry Will, I know I sounded grumpy then. It's just, oh, I don't know. I'm getting a bit sick of feeling that every time someone asks me that, what they're really saying is that Max is no good for me."

Will kept his eyes firmly on the wine glass and took a deep breath. "I gotta say, Mill, when you think about it, can you really blame them for thinking that?"

Millie testily opened her mouth to respond, but Will waved a hand to stop her.

"What I mean to say is, well, in the past at least, Max hasn't been very nice to you, has he?"

Millie frowned. Their desserts arrived and they ate them in silence. Will looked over at Millie and wondered if the vanilla bean ice cream was going to withstand the considerable heat of Millie's anger at him. He inwardly scolded himself for being so stupid. No one likes being told they've made a fool of themselves. He'd really blown it with her this time.

The desserts were finished and the waiter came and took their plates and their orders for coffee. Millie wiped her mouth with her napkin, placed it on the table and looked up at Will.

"Tell me then, in what ways do people think Max hasn't been nice to me?"

Will started to fiddle with his own napkin. "Well, um, let me see, of course there's him not being involved with Thomas until way after the he was born, to start with."

Millie shrugged her shoulder, "But he wasn't in contact with me, and I didn't tell him he had a son. So how's that his fault?" She didn't add that she had tried to tell Max when she first got pregnant, but he hadn't taken her calls. That was a different issue all together.

"Okay, fair call, maybe that wasn't down to Max. But how about all the times you were being friendly to him and he just cut you off and didn't listen?" said Will.

Millie tilted her head to one side and nodded, "True, but he does that to everyone, not just me. Not that that makes it acceptable behaviour," she added. "But do go on."

Will wondered if his next point was taking things too far, but Millie seemed to be asking for it. And maybe a dose of the truth was what she needed. "What about the time he said you had nothing between your ears and that asking your opinion was like 'listening to the rule book being read."

_Ouch! _

Will saw that that one really did register with Millie, and regretted his decision to mention it immediately. Millie looked up to smile at the waiter as he brought them their coffee, and then turned her complete attention to her coffee cup. Will wasn't sure, but he suspected she had tears in her eyes.

"Well, you have a good memory. It's almost like you learnt that word for word," muttered Millie. She knew Will had quoted Max almost verbatim. She herself had memorised every second of that encounter permanently. "But of course, you were there, weren't you?" she said.

"Yes I was, and I'll never forgive Max for that, no matter how much you love him. But Millie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken things that far. I've obviously hurt you," Will reached over and grabbed her hand.

Millie still wouldn't meet his eye, but she smiled and clasped his hand between both of her own.

"It's okay, really. I know you're only trying to protect me from making a mistake. But you have to understand, a lot of things have happened between me and Max since then, a lot of things that have made up what had happened between us in the past. And, you know, I love him. That's the bottom line."

Will placed his other hand on top of hers. "I know Millie, and once again, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business."

Millie finally raised her eyes to look at him. "Say, I'm a bit tired now. What say we call it a night?"

"If you like," said Will, snapping his fingers to request the bill. "I'll walk you to your room."

Will and Millie didn't say much on their short walk back to the hotel, or the ride in the lift. There was an uncomfortable silence when they got to Millie's door. She hurriedly thought of something innocuous to say.

"Well, thanks for that Will, I had a great time! Well, mostly," she added with a laugh.

"My pleasure," replied Will. "I really enjoyed catching up with you. It's something I've wanted to do more often. I, I've always liked you Millie."

"Likewise," Millie smiled and clutched her bag in front of her as if to shield her from whatever Will might do next. She hoped Will picked up on her signals and wouldn't make this awkward.

She hoped in vain.

"Um, Millie, you know if you are in any doubt about Max and everything, and you wanted, er, one last fling, can I just say, we're both here, far from anyone we know, and maybe, well I'd like to see what would happen if…"

Millie raised a hand and placed it on Will's arm.

"Don't say it," she whispered. "I'm tired, and I want to have time to call Max before I go to sleep. But thanks again for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow maybe?"

She reached up and kissed his cheek.

Will grabbed her hand. "Sleep well, yeah?" he said before turning and walking back to the lift.

"You too," Millie called after him as she watched him get into the lift to make his way to his own room. Once she was sure he was gone, she shut the door of her room behind her, kicked off her shoes and rang home.


	15. A Plot Uncovered

Max looked across at his silent, brooding father in the passenger seat as they drove from Marion's to collect Magda, then go to the doctor. He could imagine exactly how Harry was feeling. It occurred to Max that there was roughly the same number of years between him and his father as there was between him and Thomas. He imagined how he would feel on the day Thomas might be in a position to do to him what he had just done to Harry. And it rocked him to the very core of his sense of identity.

Max had come down from Marion's roof having fixed the tiles at least to his own and Marion's satisfaction, and feeling hot, sticky and dirty. He took the glass of lemonade Marion had handed him and finished it all in one gulp. He refilled the glass and sipped its contents as Marion and Harry filled him in about Harry's appointment. Max looked at his watch and announced they'd better leave.

Max helped his father to his feet and they started along the long driveway toward Max's car. The walk was obviously very hard going for Harry. Max could feel him flinch each time the foot of his injured leg hit the ground. Not only was the sight of his father in pain distressing to him, Max was becoming increasingly conscious of the time. He'd had wangled things with Mag to take Thomas for the day so he didn't have to miss work, and now he'd been out of the office for most of it anyway. He felt his father wince again and decided it was time he took action.

He paused in the driveway and lifted Harry up into his arms. Then he proceeded to carry the old man to the car. Somehow he managed to block his ears to his father's protestations.

"Max, what are you doing? This is, ah, completely unnecessary! Put me down!"

"Too late, Dad, we're here."

Max placed his father on the ground and helped him shuffle into the car.

Marion and Annie came to the passenger door to bid Harry farewell.

"Do call me later, dear, and tell me how you are," said Marion, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I will. I'm sorry about this, Marion," said Harry meekly.

"No need to be," said Marion, stepping back to let Annie make her good byes. She turned her attention to Max. "Thanks for finishing that off for me, dear. I can see you're going to be a handy son-in-law to have." She kissed Max's cheek.

"My pleasure," Max lied. He turned to say good bye to Annie.

Annie's behaviour towards him was perplexing him, and the prospect of facing her now was not one Max was relishing. It was soon apparent he had good reason to worry.

"Well, Max," said Annie softly, standing just a bit too close to him. "You've completely challenged my impressions of you today. Manual labour, effortlessly hoisting fully grown men off the ground. I never knew you were so…_manly_!" She punctuated the final word by giving his bicep a squeeze.

"It was, um, nothing," muttered Max stupidly.

"Until next time then," Annie almost whispered the words in his ear as she placed a rather lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Um, yeah, bye," said Max hurriedly moving away from her. As they started to drive away he looked in the rearview mirror and was sure the kisses she was blowing were directed at him.

And so both the Carter men sat in the car in silence, each preoccupied by their own thoughts.

Harry Carter was feeling, in the words of son, like a 'silly old bugger'. He couldn't believe he had come to this. All his life he had been so proud of his ability to look after himself and his family, and now not only had he given himself some stupid injury that had prevented him completing a job, he had suffered the humiliation of being carried to car by his own son. Like he was the child and his son was the father. And in front of two cracking women like Marion and Annie. Harry had been completely honest to his wife when he said he wasn't interested in Marion, but a bloke, you know, still liked to be seen as masculine. How could she or her daughter see him as any other than a weak old man ever again?

He looked across at Max in the driver's seat. He had mixed feelings about his son at that moment, but he couldn't help but notice Max looked lost in disagreeable thoughts of his own. Maybe it was those damn pre-wedding jitters again? Maybe he should say something to the lad?

"Something on your mind, my boy?" he asked.

Max took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say.

"Come on Max, you can tell me. We're both men of the world after all," he encouraged.

Max was in two minds as to whether or not to say something. But as his dad was insisting... "I think Annie was making a move on me," he said.

Harry laughed. "What? Don't be ridiculous, Max. Annie's a lovely girl. She's not likely to make a pass at her brother-in-law!"

Max didn't appreciate being laughed at or the immediate dismissal of what he had said. "Didn't you see the way she kissed me good bye? Didn't you hear her telling me to strip off and all that?" he argued.

"I wouldn't read anything into it. Have you ever seen sisters as close as her and Millie? She'd never betray her sister like that."

Harry was making Max feel foolish now, and he didn't like it one bit. He became more insistent to be heard. "I tell you Dad, she was coming on to me. Maybe you don't realise because you don't have as much experience as I've had, but believe me…"

Harry's masculine pride had taken just about as much of a beating as it could take for one day. His mood quickly shifted from amused to peeved.

"I think I know a thing or two about women, thank you very much! I know enough, for instance, to realise that you don't have to sleep with every woman who flirts with you! That's all she was doing, Max, flirting. It was completely harmless."

Max concluded he had made a mistake confiding in his father. He knew saying anything more would escalate the argument, and he wanted to avoid that. So he said nothing. Unfortunately, Harry was now in a belligerent mood and didn't need any provocation.

"What? Are you sulking now?" he chided.

"Calm down, Dad! What's your problem?" Max snapped.

"Problem? I don't have a problem! You're the one accusing a sweet young girl of making a move on you!"

"Just drop it, all right! We're not going to agree about this!"

Harry wasn't listening. "Well, I suppose your vanity is all our fault really. We spoilt you. Your mother always thought far too highly of you and made it plain. I know I should have stepped in. And now you think women everywhere swoon at the sight of you without a shirt on!"

Dismissing him was one thing, but belittling how he felt like that? If the old man wanted a fight, he was going to get one! Max pulled the car over.

"Where the hell did that come from? And when were you even around to step in? The few times you were there, when did you ever say anything to me that didn't make me doubt myself?"

"You? Have self doubt? Up until Thomas was born, when did you even think about anyone but yourself? It was all your career, your gym lifestyle, your freedom! And things have only changed slightly..."

"Oh, look, this isn't getting us anywhere! I was talking about Annie and no matter what you say, I think her behaviour was suspect!"

"Spoken like a true policeman! So, tell me the truth, son. Have you got a bit of a thing for the women in the Brown family hey? Are you one of those men who has fantasies about sleeping with sisters?"

Harry was just baiting him now, and if Max hadn't seen the perfect segue to a bug bear of his own, he would have bitten his tongue. Instead, he wasn't going to let the opportunity pass by.

"You say I have a thing for the Brown women, well, what about you? What's going on with you and Marion? Are you sleeping with her?"

That second sentence somehow just flew out. Harry was taken aback by it. Part of him wanted to rile up against having that accusation levelled at him yet again, but then he thought about Magda and whether or not he should give away their plan to teach their children a lesson. He searched for a way to avoid answering.

"I refuse to dignify that with a response!" he spluttered. "Anyway, how's it any business of yours?"

Retreat was not an option for Max now. "Sorry, you're not getting out of it that easily. I have a right to know. After all, I'm responsible for you and Marion meeting. I'm the one who's on the verge of marrying someone who could potentially become my stepsister. So what's happening? Are you cheating on my mother?"

"That's none of your business…"

"Dad!"

"All right! All right! No, I am not sleeping with her! We are friends, that's all!"

Harry and Max both stared silently out the front of the car.

Max spoke first, "So what was all that rubbish you were saying at the church the other night?"

"Your mother and I just thought we'd play a little trick on you and your sisters…"

"You what!" Max's anger flared anew. "Hang on, Mum was in on it too!"

"Yes."

Harry spoke very quietly. He watched as Max glowered at the road in front of him. Max started the car and drove with both hands clenched angrily on the steering wheel.

"Let's get Mum then and just wait until I have both of you in the car!" Max seethed.

"Now, don't you go upsetting your mother!"

"Why shouldn't I? And why shouldn't I upset you a little too? After all, you were both quite happy to torture me 'a little'!"

"Isn't torture a bit strong a word?"

"Fine then. You were both quite happy to make trouble between Millie and me…"

"Son, that was never our intention!"

"Well can you explain why you did it then? And this had better be good!"

Max's tone incensed Harry. "Don't you dare threaten me! It's one thing to have to be carried around by my son, but I'm still the head of this family and I will not be told what to do!"

Max was still furious, but after all Harry had been through today, he had to concede that he felt sympathy for the old man. The least he could do was hear his father out.

"Okay. Sorry. Can you please just tell me then why you and Mum wanted to trick us."

"That's better," said Harry. "And by the way, I, and your mother, never intended to hurt you, or Millie, or Marion, or even your sisters for that matter. But look at it my way. For nearly fifty years I have tried my hardest to protect and provide for you all. And then I find out that my own children have approached my wife and told her they suspected I was having an affair with my son's mother-in-law. And based on what? On having observed my behaviour for not even ten minutes! After all those years devoted to you and your mother, that's all it took for you to gang up together and condemn me. Do you know how that made me feel?"

Max sighed. What could he say to that, really? It just wasn't worth arguing about how his father felt. "I think I have some idea, Dad. And I'm sorry."

Harry nodded appreciatively. "Thanks son."

They drove in silence for a short time until Max drove into his parent's street. Then Harry spoke.

"Did you really feel I was never there?" he asked.

From Max's memories of childhood, his dad was either at work or in his shed. But on hearing the aggrieved tone in his father's voice, he couldn't bring himself to throw this at him now. He imagined how he'd feel if Thomas grew up to hold him accountable for all the hurtful things he'd done by accident. He knew in his heart that anything Harry had done was done for the right reasons.

He reached across and gave the knee of his father's uninjured leg a shake. "You were a man of your generation, Dad," he said. "You looked after us the best way you knew. And I seem to recall spending quite a bit of time in your shed, bashing bricks with my little hammer, trying to be like you."

Harry looked back at his son, reassured, "You were an expert brick-basher, all right," he smiled.

Max drove the car into his parents' drive way and they sat there, as arranged, waiting for Magda to join them.

"Are things really that bad between you and Millie, my boy?" Harry asked.

"No. Well, I don't know. I wish I did know."

"I'll tell you what I think, Max. And I'm speaking as someone who's been happily married for over four decades! My fatherly advice to you on how to keep a wife is simply to be a man for her. Spoil her a little. Tell her you appreciate what she does for you. And in your case, if you think you're losing her, make it clear you'd fight to keep her. You know, I think your Millie is worth it. I know it sounds like a bit of work, but the best part about it all is that if you really love someone, proving you love them is kind of fun. Ah, here comes your mother now, speaking of fun."

They watched as an very harried looking Magda bustled down the garden path towards the car.

"Most of all, son," Harry said out of the side of his mouth. "Remember; when she's upset, never, ever disagree with her!"

Magda opened the passenger side rear door and climbed into the car. The closed car windows kept what was being said from anyone beyond the inhabitants of the car, but from the amused look exchanged between the two men in the front seat and the animated hand gestures of the woman in the back, it wouldn't take too wild a guess to work out the mood of the conversation currently underway.

* * *

Annie and Marion watched Max and Harry preparing to depart.

"What were you saying to Max?" asked Marion.

"I was just teasing him a bit. He has always seemed to me to need bringing down a peg or two. So I gave him a bit of a scare."

"Just remember he's your sister's husband, and deserves your respect," lectured Marion.

"Not yet he's not!" laughed Annie. "You coming in?"

"In a moment," replied Marion.

She stood at the kerb and watched Max's car drive until it turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She was glad they were too far away to notice her eyes were filling with tears. She felt almost like she was being widowed for a second time. Harry had been such a help to her, and a dear friend as well. He'd made her think her life was almost worthwhile again, like someone cared that even though her Thomas was dead, she was still here, very much alive. Even her own daughters didn't make her feel like that. But now he was leaving her, going home to the bosom of his family, and once Annie went to Brighton tomorrow, Marion knew she wouldn't be able to pretend anymore that she was anything other than alone.


	16. Max on a Mission

(i)

Max cleaned up the few dishes from his and Thomas's dinner, and poured himself a glass of the scotch Millie had bought him for his birthday. It was his ruminating drink. Max was happy Thomas had gone to bed easily. He was exhausted. What a day it had been! He laughed to himself when he thought about his parents plotting to convince them all that his dad and Marion were having an affair. The look on his mother's face when Harry told her he had confessed the truth to Max was one he really wished Millie had been there to see, or that he had had a camera handy to capture! Despite it all, he somehow felt closer to the old man than he ever had in his life before. It made him sad to contemplate a time when his father wouldn't be around. But his dad was reasonably healthy and fit, he told himself, so in all likelihood he'd be around for a number of years yet. As long as he didn't go sliding off anymore roof tops, that is.

He had hung up the phone from Millie that evening in a not exactly easy state of mind. Lunch _and_ dinner with Will? In the space of a single day? Surely that was a bit excessive! Max kept telling himself that if anything were going on between Will and Millie, she would have kept these encounters a secret from him. And he was pretty sure she had been alone when she rang him. Unless of course Will was just especially good at keeping quiet in the background…

He put his feet up on the coffee table and realised he was feeling quite sleepy. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Maybe it was the effect of the scotch, but his imagination wouldn't let him rest. What was Millie doing right now? Max wanted so badly to envision her in a sound slumber alone in her hotel room, but somehow couldn't manage it. Various scenarios started to play out in his mind. _Millie in her wedding dress and veil, walking down the aisle towards him only to be met halfway by Will, whose hand she took before fleeing out the door, leaving Max with the sound of the laughter of all the rest of the Sun Hill crowd ringing in his ears. Max himself at Millie's door begging for her forgiveness only to have an adult Thomas pick him up and throw him out onto the street. Or finally, a momentarily pleasurable vision of watching a veiled Millie reciting her vows at the altar to him before he lifted her veil to see Annie's face laughing back at him._

He snapped out of this last fantasy with a start.

His father's advice on how to keep a wife popped into his head. _"Be a man for her"_. _"Make it clear you'd fight to keep her."_ Max knew what he had to do. Tomorrow, he was going to go to Brighton and reclaim the woman he loved. Having made this decision, he unsteadily arose from the sofa and made his way to the comfort of his and Millie's bed. On the way he looked in on his son, half hoping Thomas would be unsettled and want to share the bed with him again, but Thomas was fast asleep. Max was disappointed, but figured it was probably for the best. He had to get some sound sleep before the long drive to Brighton tomorrow. And he had a bit of sobering up to do before then as well.

(ii)

Millie had what she regarded to be a sleep in again that Saturday morning, and made her way down to breakfast at 830. It didn't take her long to spot Will. He beckoned for her to join him, which, after filling her plate from the breakfast buffet, she did.

"How are you today?" asked Will as she sat down opposite him.

"Okay. But I seem to have a bit of a headache."

"That's no good! Maybe it from too long in the sun yesterday?"

"Probably," agreed Millie, although she knew the headache was just PMT. She had forgotten her period was due this weekend.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" asked Will.

"Well, a slow breakfast and a lazy morning to start with, then Annie arrives and I guess we'll head for the beach. How about you?"

"I'm meeting a friend for a coffee this morning, then I'll probably head for the beach in the afternoon too. Do you want to meet up?"

Seeing Will had made a pass at her last night, Millie hesitated. But today she had Annie with her, so Will wasn't likely to try anything. "Sure. I'll be in the same spot as last time."

"Okay," said Will, standing up. "See you later then."

Millie waved goodbye before tucking into her muesli and toast.

(iii)

"So Harry fell from the roof because Max distracted him? Funny, that's not what Max told me!"

"Well he wouldn't, would he?" laughed Annie to her sister.

They were in Millie's hotel room. Annie idly sorted through the contents of her suitcase while a slightly fragile Millie lay on the bed.

"Don't tell me... oh fuck it, I think I've forgotten to pack a swimsuit!" cursed Annie.

Millie got up and collected her white bikini from the bathroom, where it was drying out after being washed.

"Here, wear this then."

"Oooh, are you sure you don't want to wear it again?"

"No, it's okay. I don't even know if I'll make it to the beach today, the way I'm feeling. Anyway, it was stupid bringing a white bikini when my period's due!"

"It's a risky choice, for sure. Luckily I don't have the same problem," Annie snatched the swim suit from Millie and added it to her own pile of clothes.

"So, getting back to yesterday, Max told me he finished off the tiling for Mum," prompted Millie.

Annie laughed again, "Yeah, he did. I'm not sure how good a job he did though. Mum's very happy with it, but Harry didn't think it was done very well. I almost felt sorry for Max actually, with Harry yelling orders at him. I must confess I had a go at him too. You should have seen the look on his face, Mill, when I asked him to get his shirt off and told him I was impressed by his masculinity. It freaked him out a bit I think!"

Millie cocked an eyebrow.

"That's a weird thing to say!" she remarked. "Did you say anything else?"

Annie could see Millie was unimpressed. "I was just joking Mill…" she faltered. "But I told him I never knew he was so manly, and I gave his muscle a bit of a squeeze…"

"You squeezed my husband's muscle?" repeated Millie. "Dare I ask which one?"

"His arm of course! Come on, Millie, you know it didn't mean anything!"

Millie treated Annie to a very big-sisterly look, "Yes I do know that. Nevertheless, what you were doing was flirting with your own sister's husband..."

"...to be!"

"All right, husband-to-be, but the point is this is not some teenage crush or drunken shag of mine, this is the man I love and want to spend the rest of my life with!"

"Ahh!" said Annie, sounding pleased. "You seem quite sure of that now! Very different to when I spoke to you only four days ago. Your little break seems to have done you the world of good!"

Millie made a fist and softly punched her sister's arm in response. Annie threw her arms around her.

"Millie, I'm so happy for you! I was beginning to think I wasn't going to get to be a bridesmaid at all!"

"Well, unless you have lured Max away from me, it looks like you'll be donning that frock as planned. But, just so we're clear on this, don't you fucking ever think of even pretending to flirt with Max again! You're far too alluring!"

Annie chuckled. "I doubt I'm that alluring, but I promise you I will never behave towards Max in a way that's not strictly sister-in-lawish again!"

Millie pulled Annie towards her and kissed the top of her head.

"Besides," added Annie. "There are plenty of other very attractive men in London, and Brighton for that matter, apart from Max…"

(iv)

Will walked along the shaded promenade in search of Millie. His eyes skimmed over the array of reclining bodies in the row of deck chairs when they lighted on a figure with long, smooth ivory limbs, dressed in a simple white bikini and a large sun hat. From under the hat peeked a heavy braid of auburn hair. The figure didn't immediately notice Will's presence, so he took advantage of her ignorance to appreciate her form in all its glory. Unlike the last time he had seen Millie in her swim suit, her legs weren't concealed by a skirt, but were stretched uncovered to their full extent from the her bare feet to her high cut bikini pants. Will rolled his eyes up and down the length of them several times in appreciation of their slender, tapered purity. His eyes then moved over the roundness of her hips to her flat white stomach. The pinnacle of his visual voyage along her body was her full, rounded breasts, which spilled slightly out the sides of the white lycra that strained to contain them. Yes, thought Will, for someone who had had had a child, Millie was still certainly in fine shape.

As if she sensed seducing eyes working her over, the figure moved her hands up to remove the broad rimmed hat from her head. Still with eyes closed, she shook out the abundance of hair that had been loosely braided to keep it from her face. Looking at the face, Will noticed with a start that it did not belong to Millie.

The figure opened her eyes and saw Will staring at her, looking bewildered.

"Will, isn't it?" she smiled.

"That's right, Will Fletcher," said Will, as the penny dropped. "You're Millie's sister aren't you, um, Annie isn't it?"

"Yes. We met at Thomas's Christening." She extended a hand towards him. Will couldn't tell if she wanted him to shake it or kiss it.

After a pause, he shook it and said. "So, where's Millie?"

"In the hotel room. She has a headache."

"Oh, yes, she mentioned that at breakfast. Too much sun yesterday."

"Something like that," replied Annie. "But, feel free to join me if you wish."

"Thank you," said Will, taking the chair beside her.

Annie looked him up and down. "So, PC Will Fletcher is it?"

"Actually it's DC Will Fletcher now," Will corrected her.

"DC?" she smirked. "So, what does the D stand for?"

The question made Will nervous. "Um, Detective," he replied unimaginatively.

"Oh right," said Annie. She was slightly disappointed he hadn't been more creative. Maybe he wasn't that smart. She just shrugged. After all, it wasn't his brain she had her eyes on…

(v)

Max walked through the doors of the hotel feeling exactly like the proverbial fish out of water. The drive had been a long one, and as for trying to find a place to leave the car…Anyway, eventually he had done just that and now he had moved on to stage two of his mission: locating Millie.

Despite his weariness, Max had done a circuit of the hotel grounds, the dining room and various other common areas hoping to serendipitously find Millie. He had had no luck. Surveillance having thus failed him, he decided to make enquiries at the reception desk. He was conscious that Millie might not take kindly to being tracked down and he didn't want the hotel staff to suspect he might be some sort of stalker either. He thought it best to take a more subtle approach.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Will Fletcher. I believe he's staying here?" he asked.

"He is indeed Sir," the clerk replied. "Would you like me to call his room?"

Max hadn't expected this offer and wasn't sure what to do now. "Oh, um…"

The clerk was interrupted by one of his colleagues.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Mr. Fletcher and his friend leave earlier," the other clerk said.

Max's ears pricked up at the words 'his friend'.

"Sorry sir," the original clerk said to Max. "it seems Mr. Fletcher's out for the day..."

"Actually, I think they're back," said a third clerk.

"Sorry?" The original clerk was getting slightly annoyed and confused by all these interruptions.

The third clerk whispered loudly, "Mr. Fletcher, and, you know, the redhead?" Max was listening intently now. "They came back from the beach and headed straight up to his room I believe."

"Thanks Bob," the clerk returned to Max. "As I was saying, it seems Mr. Fletcher's unavailable. Would you like me to take a message for him?"

"Um, no thanks. If it's all right with you I might get myself a drink and wait and see if I can catch him. Thanks for you help!"

"My pleasure, Sir."

Max made his way into the bar and ordered a drink. He sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs dotted around the room. So, he'd come all this way to declare his love for Millie and he'd caught her cheating on him! He had no idea what he should be doing next. Should he confront Will and Millie? Should he just go back to the car and return home? This was probably the best idea. There was no point in making a scene. Anyway, it was all his own fault. If only he'd given Millie the attention she deserved. If only he'd let her know how he felt.

Max summoned the waiter and ordered a second drink.

After a short afternoon nap, Millie was feeling slightly better and had come downstairs to get herself some afternoon tea in the hope of further reviving her spirits. She was wondering how she was going to last out staying here another day. All she wanted to do now was to get home. She missed Max and she missed Thomas. Spending time with Annie was great, but she knew her sister well enough to know that Annie would be wanting to spend most of her time out and about, meeting new people, or more, precisely, new men. Millie felt she had outgrown that phase of her life. She wasn't on the lookout for someone new. She had her Max, and all she wanted to do right now was put her arms around him and tell him just that.

She did a scout around on her way to see if she could locate Annie, to no avail. Millie smiled to herself as she made the conclusion that her little sister had probably got lucky. Still, smirking at the thought of her sister's probable success, she had a quick look around the bar just to make sure she wasn't there, and nearly gasped out loud in surprise at the sight that beheld her. There, in a chair, looking unmistakably forlorn, was the person she had been thinking she wished most in the world to see. Her own Max.

He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, so she was able to quietly creep up behind him without being seen. She then leant over the back of the arm chair and placed a hand on of each of his shoulders.

"Hey handsome," she breathed into his ear. "Would you like to buy me a drink?"


	17. One Week Before the Wedding

(i)

"It's only me!"

Mag's voice floated in from the back door of her parents' house that Saturday afternoon. She expected to find her mother in the kitchen, but it was empty, so she headed to the sitting room. She was surprised to see both her parents in there playing with their youngest grandchild.

"Hello Thomas!" said Mag, bending down and shaking his hand. She straightened up again and asked her parents, "Where's Max?"

"Off on a white charger somewhere I expect," replied Harry casually.

Mag looked quizzical.

"He's gone to Brighton to patch things up with Millie, so we're looking after Thomas for the night," explained Magda.

Mag shook her head. "And he made me look after Thomas yesterday! Tell me, has he even spent a single hour with his own son while Millie's been away?"

"I don't know, darling," replied Magda with a sigh that made it clear she didn't really care.

"But wasn't that the whole point of Millie going away – for Max to let her have a break? And now she's going to come back and things will be just as they were before and she'll be overworked and resentful and Max will be waltzing off, fighting crime, or whatever it is he does!"

"Now, don't be so hard on your brother," said Harry sternly. "I think he's learnt a lesson all right. Driving himself crazy without her, he was! Missing her so much he couldn't even wait another day to see her."

"Did he miss her or did he just realise Thomas's nappy needed changing? Hey, hang on a minute, Dad, since when were you ever on Max's side?" demanded Mag suspiciously.

"Your father and Max bonded yesterday," said Magda with an amused twist to her lips.

"Which brings us to another point," said Harry, looking to his wife. "Your mother and I have something we want to confess to you, Magdalena my dear…"

(ii)

Max was aware of Millie's presence before she spoke to him or touched him. Some base, animalistic sense of his had picked up on the scent of her and recognised her as his own. He wanted to close his eyes and drink in the sheer Millieness of her, but stopped himself through fear of what a closer examination of her scent might find. He'd already identified it as being slightly altered, presumably from the use of hotel soaps or shampoos. He didn't want to delve beneath the cosmetic odours to the more natural ones because he was afraid he might detect a whiff of sex about her. After all, from what the desk clerks had said, it was quite probable she had just come from Will's bed.

It was a nauseous thought, and one Max was having difficulty suppressing. In his current wretched state, though, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at Millie for betraying him. His feelings of guilt at his neglect of her made him feel he had all but driven her into the arms of another man. Foremost in his mind right now was how to persuade her not to leave him.

He grabbed hold of Millie's arm and pulled her in front of him. Without moving his gaze from the two hands he took in his, he blurted out the first words he thought of.

"Look, I just want to say, if anything happened between you and Will, I can get past it..."

Millie had no idea that Max had taken the threat of Will so seriously. She almost felt she should get defensive, but she could see how sincerely worried he was about it. He needed to be reassured, and the best way she knew to do that didn't require words. She climbed onto his lap and threw her arms around him. Max only hesitated for a second before reciprocating. They held each other in silence for quite some time.

When they broke apart, Millie stroked Max's cheek with her finger and said, "There's nothing going on between me and Will. I told you that. Didn't you believe me?"

"It's just that the clerks at the desk said Will and a redhead went together to his room this afternoon…" began Max.

Millie clapped her hands and laughed out loud. "Ha! Well, it looks like Annie got lucky then!"

Max breathed a sigh of relief. He'd forgotten Annie would be there today. So, she and Will were indulging in a bit of string free holiday sex, eh? Obviously Annie wasn't breaking her heart over not getting anywhere with Max himself the day before. Max knew right then that his father had been spot on about Annie. She hadn't been making a move on him, she was only teasing after all.

An idea for a spot of revenge entered his head...but that could wait for later. Any humiliation he felt about Annie seemed trivial compared to his relief that nothing had happened between Will and Millie. Max picked up Millie's hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have accused you like that."

"It doesn't matter. But there's only man for me, and you know who that is?" Millie gently brushed her nose against Max's.

"Me?" ventured Max timidly.

"You," confirmed Millie. "Now, I'm hungry. Do you want to come with me to get maybe a coffee and some scones?"

"Definitely. I left without breakfast this morning and I'm starving."

"That might explain why that single drink is making you wobbly," laughed Millie.

"It's my second, and anyway, I'm fine," said Max, who nevertheless took the arm she offered him.

While they ate and chatted, Annie entered the dining room and spotted them.

"Max! What are you doing here?" she said as she pulled up a chair.

"He couldn't wait to see me, apparently," replied Millie fondly.

"How sweet!" said Annie, although there was a mocking tone to her voice.

It was plainer than ever before to Max that Annie either didn't like him or didn't trust him.

"Soooo, anyway," said Millie. "Did you and Will sleep together?"

Annie looked at her foot as it kicked the ground under her chair. "Yeah…" she said quietly.

"Wow, you waited a whole, what, forty-five minutes before going to bed with him?" laughed Millie.

"Hey!" protested Annie. "Will played his part too."

"I'll bet!" commented Max.

Millie finished off the last crumbs of her scone, wiped her mouth and put down her napkin. "Can I leave you two for a moment? I think I need the loo," she said.

"Go ahead," said Annie.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Annie and Max were now alone. Annie nodded at Max before turning her attention to studying the people walking by.

Max, however, had other plans. He shuffled his chair closer to Annie's, sat forward and moved his head close enough to whisper in her ear.

"It's a shame Millie found me today before I found you," he murmured.

Annie's body froze, "What?" she said with a clear note of panic in her voice.

Max's voice was steady. "I said, 'it's a shame Millie found me before I found you'. After all, it was you I came here to see."

Annie was starting to get flustered. "I don't understand…"

"Oh, I think you do. I've been thinking about what you said yesterday. You want it. I want it. I'm not married to your sister yet. Not that that would make any difference to me anyway, but…"

Annie bucked and threw Max's hands from her chair. She pushed away from Max and turned to face him.

"Look, Max, the other day, I was just joking, okay? I would never do that to my sister, and even if I would, I don't see you like that. I, I was just teasing you, that's all, I thought you were a bit conceited and I…"

Annie voice trailed off as she saw a smug grin spreading across Max's face.

"Gotcha!" he said.

Annie's mouth moved wordlessly. She fought desperately to think of a retort, but couldn't come up with one.

Max crossed his arms and gloated. "So, tell me. Who's conceited? Who thinks every member of the opposite sex is attracted to them? Huh?"

Finally the appropriate response was clear to Annie. She reached across to Max and slapped him.

"That's good, that's the type of thing a sister would do to a brother," said Max approvingly.

Annie found her tongue. "God, you had me worried! I thought you were serious!"

"Yeah, well, now you know how I felt! I know you don't think much of me, and probably don't care about my feelings, but how do you think would Millie feel about you behaving like that with her fiance?"

Annie huffed. "I guess I didn't think about it. Didn't really care, actually! I suppose I've never trusted you to treat Millie right, and didn't care if I pushed you apart. But, apparently you're a human being with feelings after all, and Millie really loves you, so what can I say? I am sorry Max, and I promise I won't play games with you again. Friends?"

Annie held out a hand for Max to shake, which he was in the process of doing just as Millie returned to the table.

"Well, that's a lovely, if somewhat strange, sight!" commented Millie. "What's going on?"

"We're calling a truce," laughed Annie, standing up as she spoke. "I'll leave Max to explain it further. I'm off to find Will. At least my sex appeal's not wasted on him!"

"She didn't pretend to make a pass at you again, did she?" Millie asked Max as Annie left them.

"Told you about that, did she?" chuckled Max. "Don't worry, I made one at her this time."

"Oh?" Millie sounded uncertain.

Max leant forward and kissed her. "It's okay, it was only pay-back. I just threatened to take her up on her offer from yesterday. Scared the poor girl to death! But she took the point that flirting with me might hurt you, so I don't think she'll try anything like that again."

"Thanks god for that! I don't think I could stand you two 'teaching each other a lesson' again! You might grow fond of it!"

Max put his arm around her shoulder, "You know what, Annie's probably the closest thing to a clone of you there is in the world, looks-wise anyway. But she doesn't hold a candle to you, Millie. There's no one for me but you."

Millie was so unaccustomed to Max being soppy, all she could do was blush.

Max saw her reaction, and liked it. Why not go the whole hog?

"Actually, you know what, I didn't do this properly the first time, so I'm going to do it again. Millie Brown…" Max sank onto one knee on the floor. "I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Millie ran her fingers through his hair and ruffled it lovingly. "Yes, my darling, I will!"

"Great. How does next Saturday sound?" Max joked as he got up off the ground.

"Saturday's fine with me!"

"It's a date!" They sealed the deal with a kiss. "You know, I actually enjoyed doing that. It was satisfying to feel I proposed because I love you, not just because I'd knocked you up!"

Millie said nothing. The way she was feeling physically, she was beginning to think he might be wrong about that…

"Moving right along," Max continued. "I'm dying for a shower after that long drive. Can I use your room?"

"It's our room now dear," said Millie. "And I think I'd better come and help you. I'd hate for you to slip and fall and not be there to save you."

Max stood up and held his hand out for Millie. "I suppose I'll let you," he said.

The two of them walked hand in hand to the lifts, much to the bewilderment of the desk staff, who were muttering amongst themselves how the redhead got around. Max made a mental note to point out to them that there were two redheads on the loose, but this one was his.

(iii)

"Isn't this great? There's no one to disturb us," said Millie.

"Annie doesn't have a key card does she?" asked Max. "I might not be able to fight her off if she actually sees me without a shirt…"

Millie glared at him, then walked over to the door and put the 'Do Not Disturb' tag on the door. She then slid the door bolt into place.

"You're all mine now!" she said. She slinked over to him, pausing before she reached him to grasp the zipper that ran down the side of her thin cotton dress and pull it down. Then she let the dress fall to floor, leaving her clad only in a pink bra and undies. She grabbed Max's belt buckle and used it to pull him against her.

"Easy there, little lady," said Max, chastising her with a slap on each buttock. "Where's this shower you promised me?"

"This way," said Millie, leading him by the hand.

Soon the were together under the running water, playfully soaping each other up. Max knew Millie hated getting her hair wet if she wasn't going to wash it, and he watched her chicken-like head-tilting, intended to keep it from under the water, with amusement. Soon it became too much for him to bear so he took her head in both in his hands and pulling her mouth to his, forced her head under the full stream of the shower as he kissed her.

Millie gasped in shock as she felt the water hit the top of her head them come cascading over her shoulders and breasts; a view which Max backed away a little to enjoy to its full effect.

"Max!" Millie said scoldingly.

"Oh come, baby, live a little!" said Max, as his fingers got tangled in the wet locks he was attempting to peel from her face. To take her mind off her hair, he started to mouth her neck and shoulders.

Treating Max to a taste of him own medicine, Millie put both her hands on the top of Max's already wet head and pushed it down under the jet of water as well. Then, after smiling with satisfaction, she returned his kisses with gusto.

"Hey, I'm going to try to drown you more often!" laughed Max.

"If you're thinking of killing me off and trading me in for the younger model, Will's beaten you to it!"

Max stopped what he was doing and held Millie's face in his hands until she was still as well.

"No way," he said seriously, touching her lips softly with his own.

He noticed a bottle of shampoo on the rack that hung in the shower and reached for it and squeezed some onto his palm.

"I'm going to wash your hair for you," he announced. "No, no, don't turn away from me. Wait, no, on second thoughts do. This is good." Millie had started to shuffle her way around so he could access the back of her head and had ended up backed up against Max. "Now just bent forward a little, a little more…what? Why are you looking at me like that? I was just trying to get my hands at the best angle to wash your hair!"

"Sure you were! All right then, wash away."

Max massaged the shampoo against Millie's scalp. Millie closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation.

"Oh god, that's the headache cure I've been looking for all day!" she murmured.

Max tilted Millie's head back to let the water rinse the last trace of the shampoo away.

"I tell you what," he said, pressing his lips to her wet head. "I've got another great headache cure we can try out. But I suppose we've got to condition your hair now before I can show you."

Millie quickly turned off both the taps.

"I've got a leave-in conditioner," she said, taking Max's hand and leading him out of the shower.

"Excellent," said Max.

They wrapped themselves in several of the hotel's fluffiest towels and fell together in a damp heap on the king size bed. And they didn't leave their room until the following morning...


	18. The Wedding Part 1: The Church

**A/N This storyline was created before recent episodes of The Bill in which Max is basically alienated from his workmates, Neil is with Grace etc, so these things have not happened.**

**There's lots of Sun Hill character interaction especially for Firebird, and I've dressed Max in a suit especially for MissLala xx**

(i)

Dale Smith swung his car into the first available spot in the churchyard with a look of smouldering anger on his face. It was all Stevie's fault they were late. She couldn't do without a particular pair of shoes that she hadn't worn in ages, so he, Jo, and Mickey had sat not so patiently in the car while she rummaged through a box or two in search of them. Now the white Rolls with the white bridal ribbon on its bonnet parked out the front of the church indicated that even the bride had beaten them there.

A moody silence prevailed as the quartet from Sun Hill climbed out of the car and started to walk towards the church. They hadn't got far before Jo spread her arms out and halted them all in their tracks.

"Oi," she said under her breath. "Look over there!"

All eyes turned towards a large tree, against which a man (whom they all recognised as Will Fletcher) was backing a woman who had thick, auburn hair, which was piled in shiny coils on her head. His reason for doing this was apparently to work his mouth and hands over as much of her as possible. It had to be said, the woman was participating in the exercise with a fervour equal to Will's own.

"Oh my god!" gasped Stevie. "Millie!"

"I never thought I'd live to say it, but poor Max," mumbled Mickey. "What a thing to have happen on your wedding day!"

"You think she's still intending to marry Max?" wondered Smithy. "Maybe it's already all blown up and we missed it." Smithy uttered the latter sentence with a glare at Stevie.

"Wait a minute," said Jo. "Millie's doing the whole meringue thing, isn't she? This woman's wearing green."

"Doesn't Millie have a look alike sister?" asked Stevie.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Just as the facts of the matter hit them, a mass of white tulle and silk appeared at the church door and hissed loudly, "Annie! Come on! We've still got stuff to organise!"

Will and Annie separated, and, straightening her dress and hair as she went, Annie ran as fast as she could in her heels towards her sister.

(ii)

In the vestry, Max, his best man Tony (who was also Thomas's Godfather) and Max's brothers-in-law, Paul and Malcolm, were making the final adjustments to their ties and cummerbunds. In the midst of all this, Magda was looking over their suits and every now and again batting one or the other of them with the clothes brush. The last one of the party she focused her attention on was her son, and when she got to him she scowled and started fussing full tilt.

"Maxie! Dear Lord, look at your shoes! Didn't you clean them? Tony, here you grab a cloth and work on that right shoe of his, will you darling? What have you leant against, son? The back of your suit has cobwebs all over it! Here!"

Max was actually winded as a none-too-gentle blow was administered to the offending area of his back by his mother. Once she was satisfied with the back of his suit, she spun him around and ran her critical eyes up and down its front. Max only just managed to deflect the brush from striking a part of him of which he was particularly protective, especially tonight - his wedding night - where he hoped it would be playing a starring role. He was not, however, quick enough to arrest an attack on an imagined spot on his lapel.

Max looked at his watch and saw that any moment now, Millie would be arriving. At least he hoped she would. There was something about her mood this morning before he left to get ready at his parents' place that worried him. Several times she had looked as if she were about to say something to him, but the stopped herself. As a consequences, playing at the back of Max's mind since then was the possibility she might again be having second thoughts about marrying him.

He had to find a way to speed this up. Luckily for him, it was at this point his father stepped in.

"Magda, my dear, Max is not a little boy any more. He's a man, and now is the time when you must hand any guidance he may need over to his father. Malcolm, can you three take Magda out and show her to her seat now? Max and I will be out in a moment."

Magda looked at her son and her husband and knew they were united against her. She reflected on how long she'd prayed for Harry and Max to form a real bond with each other, and how Harry's falling from Marion's roof had finally brought this about. She also thought about all the years she'd feared she'd never see the day her youngest child would marry, and how, despite all omens to the contrary, Max and Millie's wedding day had come. Who would have guessed that these longed for events would result in her own prominence in Max's life being diminished? But, she sighed, this was what it meant to be a mother. It was all about sacrifice. She gave Max's cheek a final tearful tweak, then a kiss, and left the room dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

The two Carter men exchanged a look they had shared many times over the years when dealing with the women in their family, then returned to their preparations. Harry forewent the savagery of Magda's brush and gently used his hands to defluff the arms and front of Max's suit.

"There now, all fixed. Not quite as bad as that silly old woman was making out, eh son?" he said calmly.

Max acknowledged his father's gentle ribbing of his mother with a smile as Harry continued his inspection of his son. His eyes fell on Max's bow tie. He started to cluck his tongue as he raised his hand to Max's throat and proceeded to undo the offending item.

"Did you fix this tie yourself, my boy? Dear, dear, you clearly haven't had much practice! Don't they ever make you wear a tie to work, Max?"

"Not a bow tie, no," replied Max wryly. "Doesn't quite suit the image."

Harry smiled thinly and fiddled with the tie until it was fixed to his satisfaction. Grabbing Max by the shoulders, he held him at a distance to give him a final checking over.

"There now, you'll do," he murmured, looking over most of the upper half of Max, but, as Max noted, avoiding his eyes.

Max could see this was a special moment to his dad, so he quickly constructed a platitude. "Thanks for doing this for me, Dad. It means a lot to have you here today."

"Couldn't let you fumble your way through this unassisted, could I, boy?" Harry blustered. "But in all seriousness, Max, I wouldn't miss it for the world. You're my son, my only son, and dash it all, I'm proud of you. I hope you know that."

"Thanks, Dad, I do," said Max, who up until that moment never would have dreamed of using the word 'proud' to describe his father's feelings for him. He started to feel slightly choked up. Partially to detract his father's attention from this, he opened his arms and the two men embraced. After a moment, they dropped their arms and stood there, clearly unsure of what to do next.

"Come, come, let's leave any more soppiness today to the women, eh?'" said Harry brightly.

"Fine with me," agreed Max, as he took one last look in the mirror.

"You ready then, my boy?"

Max nodded.

"Right then, let's get out there and get you married before that lovely lass of yours comes to her senses!"

(iii)

It didn't take long for Will to catch up to Annie and the rest of the bridal party, who were standing in the enclosed porch of the church. He could see the troubled look on Millie's face, which was grandly framed by the lace of her veil. The image was somewhat undermined by the way the bride was chewing on a thumb nail. Will tracked Millie's gaze to the front of the church and immediately saw the reason for her worried expression. There was no Max at the front of the church waiting for her.

Roger, Mrs. Brown and Annie had noted this also, and were trying to soothe the increasingly agitated Millie. Mrs. Brown soon pulled Roger aside.

"Now, my dear, you've worked with Max a long time. You don't think he's made a run for it, do you?"

Unfortunately for Mrs. Brown, the porch had a slight echo, so even though she had endeavoured to talk to Roger discretely, Annie, Will and poor Millie herself all heard her words clearly. Annie glared at her mother.

Roger noted that Will was hanging around, and looked to him for support.

"No, Marion, I don't."

"That wouldn't be Max's style at all," agreed Will.

Roger nodded in affirmation. Marrying Millie and seeking a divorce the next day... _that_ he could see Max doing. But what made Roger most confident about his assertion was the fact that from what he'd seen of Max's family, Mrs. Carter would never let Max get away with jilting his bride at the altar.

He continued, "He's just been held up. See, the rest of his family are there, looking quite calm."

"And look, Mag and Johanna are here now too," pointed out a much-relieved Annie.

Max's sisters joined the party, kissed everyone and oohed and ahhed in appreciation of the loveliness of the mother of the bride, the bridesmaid and especially the bride herself. No one asked them directly if it were likely Max had changed his mind, but their calmness and apparent lack of doubt that Max was on his way was reassuring to everyone.

But, to be on the safe side, Annie took advantage of the diversion their arrival had created to just go and check. With a quick whisper to Roger, she slipped out the main doors of the church and made her way in through a side door to the vestry.

(iv)

Meanwhile, Smithy's carload had slipped past the bridal party and tiptoed down the aisle to a pew in which Terry Perkins and his wife were sitting beside Neil, Grace, Banksy, and his wife, Naomi. In the row behind them were Millie's former colleagues from Uniform: Callum, Mel, Leon and Nate, along with ex-members of the Sun Hill team, Beth and Sally.

"Where have you lot been?" demanded Terry. "Oh, of course, you had Stevie with you," he added as if this explained everything.

"Why blame me?" said Stevie indignantly.

"Am I wrong?" asked Terry.

Stevie's look was enough of an answer.

Jo leant across to the others, "Young Will's diddling the sister of the bride," she announced.

The inhabitants of the Sun Hill pews all spun around at the prospect of hearing the details of this juicy piece of gossip. As Will approached and took a seat with his former CID colleagues, he felt that all eyes were on him.

"What?" he said shrinking back.

"Go on, spill it," said Callum.

"Is there going to be a second bride in the Brown family soon?" asked Stevie with a nudge.

"Or perhaps another baby?" giggled Beth.

Will wasn't even going to dignify Beth's question with a response. All he said was, "Sorry to disappoint, but I am not ready to take myself off the market quite yet."

"Does Millie's poor sister know this?" asked Terry.

"Annie? Let me tell you, mate, I'm not hearing any complaints from her!" Will retorted.

Sally, Stevie, Beth and Mel joined in a chorus of "OOOOOOO", which was barely audible but still loud enough to earn them a stern look from an elderly relative of Max's who was sitting near by. This resulted in the girls starting to giggle. Far more successful in making them behave was DI Manson, who had been pretending to ignore them but on seeing the reaction of the old lady turned around in his pew and gave each of the gigglers in turn such a admonishing look, they soon fell into shameful silence. The DI then turned to solemnly face the front of the church again, but not before a quick wink in the direction of Grace, Banksy and Naomi.

Jo, Mickey and Terry were still determined to get to the bottom of things, so Jo leant across, and, after quickly checking the DI wasn't watching, whispered, "Obviously we realise you're showing her a good time. But is it serious? I don't think Millie would take kindly to you breaking her sister's heart, and you and she have always got on well."

"Don't panic. It's just a fling for both of us. She'll be back in Germany at the end of the week," Will grinned.

"Right then, good luck to you, mate!" said Mickey, rubbing his hands together.

Just as Neil Manson was contemplating whether or not a second round of glares was in order, the sound of heels clicking their way from side of the church to the vestry were heard. All heads turned to watch as the sister of the bride went in search of the groom.

(v)

Annie knocked at the door to the vestry.

"Max! You still in here?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're on our way now," said Max, as he followed his father out into the church. He paused to talk to Annie. "How's Millie? All ready?"

Annie could see that Max was just as worried about being jilted as her sister. "Don't worry, dear brother, she hasn't changed her mind! She's dressed up, ready to go, eager to get this over with so she can go for a night of hot sex in a sleazy hotel with her new husband."

Max had no patience with Annie's needling. He was more concerned with Millie's mood. What was it is she had hesitated to tell him earlier? "She nervous?" he asked.

Annie put a pacifying hand on his arm. "She is, but don't read anything into that. She knows marrying you is the right thing. Actually, what she's been most worried about is something happening to that dress of hers. I tell you, it was lucky she already had her period this week, otherwise she'd be constantly checking the back of the dress on her walk down the aisle…"

"Period?" repeated Max looking confused. He knew Millie hadn't had her period that week. In fact, when he thought about it, she hadn't had it in ages…

"Yes, her period," reiterated Annie. "She told me in Brighton she was stupid to have brought a white swim suit when her period was due."

A penny dropped in Max's head. He was keener than ever to get things moving along so he could talk to Millie alone. "Oh. Of course. Sorry, I'm not thinking straight. Well, I'd better get to the front of the church."

"Good luck, Max," said Annie.

She hurried to the back of the church while Harry and Max walked towards the altar.

The mutterings recommenced in the Sun Hill pews at the sight of Max.

"Max doesn't scrub up too badly, does he?" Stevie commented.

Terry shrugged and said, "I think he looks a bit nervous."

"Wouldn't you be?" said Mickey.

"Yeah," said Jo, then added as she pointed to the back of the church, "But then, just take a look at what he's getting!"

Max stood at the front of the church waiting for his bride. Before taking his seat beside his wife, Harry gave Max a final pat on the back.

"Ready, son?" asked Harry.

"Very," replied Max.

As the organ started playing to announce Millie's arrival, Max smiled to himself. He smiled not just because he was about to marry the woman he loved, but because he knew what had been playing on her mind that morning. She had something to tell him and he was thrilled to bits because he now knew what it was. And it was something he'd wanted to experience with her for a long time…


	19. The Wedding Part 2: The Ceremony

**A/N This was going to be it, but then Firebird inspired me to consider the possibilities of what could happen at the Wedding Reception. So there will be another chapter following this...**

(i)

The expression on Max's face as he watched Millie walking down the aisle towards him was noticed and remarked upon by everyone.

Max's family saw it, and were relieved that their Maxie had finally worked out what really mattered in life.

Marion Brown saw it, and thought ruefully that the last vestige of the family she once had was slipping through her fingers.

Roger saw it, and his own face shone with pride and confidence as he delivered Millie into the safe hands of a man who obviously truly loved her.

Annie saw it, and made a finger-down-the-throat gesture at Will as she past him.

The Sun Hill contingent saw it, and couldn't help but comment - once they'd finished laughing at Annie and Will!

"Oi! Check out the expression on Max's face," Smithy nudged Stevie and spoke loud enough for the others around to hear.

"Come on now, be nice!" admonished Jo. "That's the face of a man in love!"

"More likely a man wondering what the hell he's got himself into!" corrected Mickey.

"He looks kind of...dopey," observed Stevie.

Terry, whose view was being blocked by Callum and Nate, could only go by what the others were saying. "Dopey, you reckon?" he said. "Sounds to me like the usual look Max has on his face when he's working out a case."

His quick impression of Max created near hysterical laughter from his workmates, but this was swiftly muted to near-silent convulsing by a subtle but nonetheless intimidating "Ah-hem" from Neil Manson.

When Millie saw Max's expression she was intrigued as to what was going on in his head. She guessed that he was probably thinking ahead to their wedding night. This in turn meant that her expression when her eyes met Max's was at odds with the virginal whiteness of her sweetly simple wedding dress and veil.

Max's caught the lascivious nature of her look and appreciated it, but it was secondary to the cherished knowledge he had recently gained that the woman now standing before him was carrying his child. It was true they already had a son together, but Max had never knowingly seen Millie pregnant, and even though it was very early days, he wanted to savour every moment of the experience. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and place his hand upon her belly to let her know he knew her secret. But he didn't. He wanted to yell at Fr. Bourke to hurry up and cut through the religious waffle so that his pregnant (almost) wife could get off her feet. But he didn't do that either. Instead he turned his attention to studying the way Millie looked. There was no other word to describe it - she was radiant. Max could think of three possible causes for this: her make up, the excitement of the wedding, or her being pregnant. He naturally wanted to believe it was the latter. At least he could cling to that as a tangible sign of the existence of the new life that so recently been created within her.

Max heard Roger saying "I do," in reply to Fr. Bourke's question as to who was presenting the bride to the groom, and realised he probably should start focusing on what the priest was saying.

His mission having been accomplished, Roger retreated to sit next to Millie's mother on the bride's side of the church. He nodded to Mrs. Brown, but she hardly noticed him. She just sat in her position in the front pew intently studying her two flame-headed daughters. She thought to herself that they were both visions of absolute loveliness in their respective wedding and bridesmaid dresses. It seemed like only yesterday they were babies. In her mind's eye, Marion recalled the deliriously happy moments right after Millie was born. She hadn't even taken in the wonder of her new baby when her eyes had locked with her husband's and without saying a word, he had left her in no doubt of both his love for her and his joy at the child they had created together. Once they had drunk their fill from each other's eyes, they turned their attentions to their baby. They cooed over her, marvelled at her perfection and argued benignly over whose family she took after. They had talked in awed tones about the dreams they had for her future, and shed tears at the thought of the forthcoming joys and sorrows she would endure. In that hospital bed, at the very dawn of Millie's life, Marion had envisioned her daughter standing before her as a bride. But never for one instant on that near sacred day did she even consider the possibility that her Tom would not be there to share the realisation of it with her.

The tears seeped out, slowly and softly at first, then turning to audible sobbing. Roger felt he should do something, but had no idea what. The attentions Marion had paid him in the past made him fearful that any comfort he might offer would be misconstrued. So all he did was offer her his handkerchief.

Millie turned to face her mother and felt like her heart would break. She moved to go towards her, but Max stopped her. He had gone through too much to get to this stage with Millie and he wasn't about to surrender her at the eleventh hour. Annie heard her mother too, and debated with herself whether or not she should go and comfort her. She concluded she couldn't go either.

Then Marion felt herself wrapped in a warm, maternal embrace. Magda Carter had heard Marion's sobs, and had crept across the aisle to console her. She was feeling a sense of loss herself that day, and even though she knew it wasn't as severe as Marion's, felt she understood what Marion was going through.

"Shh, there, there. It's okay Marion darling," she said soothingly. "I'm here now."

Marion clutched her hand. "Oh, Magda," she sobbed. "I miss Tom so much!"

"I know you do, darling, but you know what? I think he's here with us today. Look at your beautiful daughters and your grandson. You can see how he lives on in all of them."

Marion nodded and blew her nose. Roger was glad he'd brought a second handkerchief. He held it at the ready.

"I try to tell myself that, but my girls are growing further away from me everyday. Annie lives on the Continent, now Millie's a mother and she's married. Soon I will have no family left!"

"You have us!" Magda stated dramatically. "We're your family now. Me, Harry, Millie, Max, Thomas, the girls, all of us. We are all here for you, whenever you need us."

Roger feared Magda's matronly bosom might just smother Marion as she embraced her even more zealously than before.

This supreme moment of bonding was interrupted by the none-to-subtle sounds of Fr. Bourke tapping on the microphone. The weeping matriarchs hugged once more, then Magda squeezed herself in between Marion and Roger, liberating Roger of his handkerchief on the way. After dabbing at her eyes, Magda took Marion's hand, and together they sat and watched their children exchange their marital vows.

Harry Carter polished his glasses with his own handkerchief and chuckled to himself at the sight of his wife and his 'mistress' suddenly becoming best friends. He wanted to catch Max's eye to share the moment, but Max's mind was elsewhere. And who could blame him? It's not everyday a man gets to legally lay claim to a woman as smashing as Millie! It did make him kind of sad though, to reflect how Max's taking today of what Harry considered the final step on the road to manhood could weaken the connection they had formed only a matter of days ago.

Harry cast his eye across the line of people currently standing at the altar. Bypassing Annie and Tony, he saw his daughters' husbands at one end of the line, then his son and new daughter-in-law in the centre, and lastly Mag and Johanna to the other side of her. It struck him that right there before him stood the generation of his family who somehow, without Harry even noticing, had superseded him and Magda. It was a sobering thought. Even more sobering when he thought of how his oldest child, Johanna, had a son who was in his twenties now, and would soon enough be usurping his own parents. Darling Johanna, his special pet, was only five years from 50. He thought sadly about how Johanna had refused to speak to him since she found out about his and Magda's little trick. He watched her now as she turned to see what was happening in the pews behind her. Her initial bewilderment at Magda and Marion holding hands quickly gave way to a look of amusement at the sight she beheld. As she broke into more of a smile, she turned and her eyes met her father's. To Harry's delight, this time, instead of shunning him as she had all week, her eyes twinkled at him in enjoyment of their shared joke.

Harry smiled as he leant back in his pew, thinking happily that all was right in the Carter family again. As Max slipped his wedding ring onto Millie's finger, a lump formed in the old man's throat. He started to wish that Magda were sitting beside him, holding his hand instead of Marion's. He contented himself with the thought that later that evening he could replace this monkey suit for his pyjamas and lie back in his own bed, Magda in his arms, and they could go over all the best parts of the day together at their leisure.

As Fr. Bourke spoke the words, "You may now kiss the bride," the church erupted in applause and cheering. Max and Millie's first kiss as man and wife was certainly done with feeling, but there were mutterings among the congregation that perhaps the groom had cut it short.

They weren't wrong. Max had found he couldn't wait any longer, and used the cover of the noise coming from the congregation to say quickly to Millie, "So, Baby Number Two's on the way?"

Millie gaped at him. "How did you know?"

"A husband just knows," said Max enigmatically. "Any reason you weren't telling me?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up. Anyway, I only found out for sure when I did a test this morning. I kind of hoped you might ask why my period was late. But no, you seemed perfectly happy to fuck me all week without noticing a detail like that."

Just as Millie spoke her last sentence, Fr. Bourke had come forward to congratulate them and happened to hear part of what she said. Instead of talking, he simply smiled awkwardly and took at step back.

Max and Millie looked at the priest, then each other, and had a little laugh.

Millie continued. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you as soon as I knew, but it didn't seem right when we were both rushing around getting ready. And I wanted telling you to be special. Are you happy?"

Max's answer came in the form of a second kiss, which, much to the delight of the congregation, was more passionate and sustained than the first.

Max smiled and said, "Then when this one's born, we can plan for Baby Number 3. I hope Thomas copes okay with being so much older than his siblings."

"Siblings?" queried Millie as she and Max turned to face the congregation and run the gauntlet of kisses and hugs between the altar and the register.

"Babies Two, Three and Four. Remember, we said we are having four children," said a poker-faced Max.

"We'll see," said Millie. Her expression metamorphosed seamlessly between the frown she was giving Max, and the radiant smile she was presenting to their guests.

"I'm glad you've agree," Max continued. "Later we can negotiate Babies Five and Six."

As Millie sat down to sign the register, she spoke to Max out the side of her mouth, "You realise don't you, that I haven't signed anything yet."

Her hand remained suspended above the paper for so long had Max feared he's pushed the joke too far.

"You are going to sign though, aren't you?" he asked.

Millie couldn't help but feel vindicated at his worried expression. She put her hand at the back of his head and pulled him towards her and smiled.

"I have to now, don't I? You knocked me up again, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Max whispered back. "Now please, put the pen to the paper."

She drew him towards her again, and planted a kiss on his lips. The cameras flashed overtime, and the congregation cheered and clapped as Millie signed her name in her clearest and best hand, before handing the pen to her husband for him to sign his own.

(ii)

On the steps of the church the Bride and Groom and various hangers-on posed for a seeming multitude of photographs. Max was worried because he could see that the day was beginning to take its toll on his pregnant wife. And after this, they still had the reception to get through. They had to make some time for her to rest.

"Come on darling. Throw that bouquet and we'll head to the car," said Max.

Millie nodded wearily. She turned her back to their guests and before half of them knew what was happening, the bouquet flew through the air. Millie and Max didn't even stop to see who caught it before they made their way through the shower of confetti towards the car.

The mothers of the happy couple then found themselves the centre of attention. They greeted and thanked the procession of people offering them hugs and kisses and congratulations. Once the fuss around them had died down, Magda persuaded her oldest grandchild to drive her and Marion to the reception hall so they could ensure everything would be ready for the meal and other celebrations.

Harry and Roger stood together and watched as Marion and Magda drove away.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling like I've been abandoned," smiled Roger.

"I know what you're saying," nodded Harry. "Still, look at it this way, old man. In the absence of our, um, wives, there are lots of pretty young girls around for a bloke to talk to. What say we mingle, eh?"

"Good idea," said Roger, as they wandered over to chat to Max's Sun Hill colleagues, most of whom had trouble believing this charming old man was even related to Max.

Max's two sisters remained at the top of the church stairs, arms around each other's shoulders, determined to wave off Max and Millie's car until it was a mere speck in the distance. When it had disappeared from view, they looked at each other and laughed at the havoc that mingled tears of happiness and sorrow, plus the unholy mix of many different shades of lipsticks kissed onto their cheeks, had wreaked on their carefully made-up faces.

"So, we're finally free of him eh?" said Mag, licking a corner of her handkerchief before neatening her sister's smudged mascara with it.

"Think of it not as having lost a Max, but as having gained a Millie," replied Johanna as she retrieved some stray confetti from her sister's cleavage. "Speaking of which, how did you think she looked today?"

"Stunning! Beautiful, happy. Almost…"

"Glowing?" Johanna suggested.

"Ah!" Mag replied, immediately twigging as to what Johanna was implying. "Yes, I would say glowing! Do you think…"

"I do," affirmed Johanna.

Mag rubbed her hands together and did a little dance. "Goody, goody!" she said. "Strictly between us I suppose?"

"Strictly," agreed Johanna. "Now, here come Stevie and Jo."

"Is that a 'he's off our hands at last' dance?" laughed Jo as they climbed the stairs.

"You could say that," said Mag. "So, neither of you ladies caught the bouquet?"

"Despite Millie's deliberately throwing it at the Sun Hill girls, you mean?" said Stevie. "I did try, but failed. Still, I think seeing Grace's face when she caught it was the next best thing to getting it myself."

"I think the look on the DI's face was better," remarked Jo.

"Ooooo, don't tell me there's a second Sun Hill romance on the cards?" Mag rubbed her hands together at the thought of further gossip.

"Ply with champagne at the reception, and I shall reveal all!" promised Stevie.

"Well, we'd better start making our way over there then," suggested Johanna.

"You two staying sober?" queried Jo.

"Lord no!" exclaimed Mag. "I plan on getting smashed!"

"Oh god!" Johanna muttered, remembering only too well Mag's behaviour at Millie's Hen Night. She was beginning to think she had a long night ahead of her. Sometimes she really hated being the older sister...


	20. The Reception Part 1

**A/N Not the final chapter as promised, sorry! And MissLala, I know you're keen to see Max thumbing through The Book of Revelations, but...**

(i)

"Millie," panted Max. "This isn't going to hurt the baby, is it?"

The bridal car had dropped them at their house for the period of time between the ceremony and the reception. The idea of Millie having a rest was quickly forgotten and they had ended up on the bed together, unanimous in their desire to consummate their marriage before having to leave to attend their reception. To save time and bother, Millie's dress and veil were left in situ, and after a few desperate minutes they found a position in which they could satisfy their need without crushing her skirt too much. Max was fumbling to unwrap a condom when the above thought had popped into his head, quashing his ardour in its wake.

Millie propped herself up on her elbows and caught her breath. She was incredulous.

"Just how many pregnancies have you watched your sisters go through?" she asked.

"Seven," Max muttered.

"And do you think they went without sex the entire nine months of each of those pregnancies?"

"As far as I'm concerned, neither of them have ever had sex in their lives!" Max retorted stubbornly.

"O – kay," said Millie slowly, not wanting to push him on what was apparently a delicate topic. "Getting back to reality, my darling, we don't have a lot of time. Let's just do it. I won't take long to get there, I promise."

Max gazed over at his hot-to-trot bride, who, with her veil, white suspenders and up-hitched wedding dress, was like some sort of wet dream personified, then sat himself down on the bed, face in hands and let out a moan of frustration. No matter how much he wanted her, he knew he just couldn't go through with it.

"Max?"

When he didn't respond, Millie sighed and smoothed her wedding dress back where it belonged.

"Come on," she said grabbing him by the hand. "We don't have much time. We'd better get ready to face our guests."

She tried to pull him up from his seated position on the bed, but instead, in an attempt to appease her, he used her hand to pull her back towards him. With his free hand he fought through the flowing tulle of her veil and guided her head towards him so their lips met.

"You'd better get your pants back on," said Millie, taking one last nip at Max's mouth before reaching for the two halves of his suit, which lay resting on the chair.

"You know, before we were married, you'd be telling me to get my pants off! See, that's what marriage does!"

Before Millie could respond, they heard their car honking at them naggingly. After a final check of their presentability, Max held out his hand for Millie.

"You ready to go, Mrs. Carter?"

Millie took his hand and grinned.

"I'm ready, Mr. Brown."

(ii)

The Carter family women were fussing around at the reception hall, making sure everything was ready for the reappearance of the Bride and Groom, when Mag grabbed her sister and whispered, "Do you know which meal Millie is having?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

Mag softly slapped her sister to jog her memory "I know your childbearing days are long gone, but hello? Rare steak! Seafood! Pregnant woman!"

"Oh my god, I didn't think of that!"

"Yeah, well, I don't know about you, but I want my niece to be healthy!"

"You think it's a girl?"

"I'd like it to be one. Nice for Maxie to have one of each."

"Only one of each? Not likely for a Carter. Now, what are we going to do about Millie's food?"

"We have to speak to the chef."

"I don't know if he'll appreciate that…" The kitchen staff had made their displeasure clear after Magda, Johanna and Mag had each poked their heads in the kitchen to check on things within the space of twenty minutes.

"Healthy niece, remember…"

"All right, all right! I'll have a word! Knowing you and Ma, I'm probably the only one he'll talk to, anyway. Oh, look," Johanna peered out the window. "Here's the car. I'll dash into the kitchen now and meet you back here."

(iii)

Johanna had returned to her place at the main table by the time Max and Millie had come through the door and started to make their way towards their own seats. Mag watched as the drinks waiter put two glasses of champagne at Max and Millie's places. She started to worry that with all the excitement Millie might absentmindedly drink her champagne. As a precaution, she used everyone's focus on the Bride and Groom to quickly swig down Millie's champagne herself and replace it with the contents of a bottle of soda water the waiter had placed on the table.

Once she was reseated, she watched in dismay as one of her nephews, who was making his way to his own seat via the bridal party's table, managed to catch his foot in the tablecloth and cause several glasses to spill, including those of the Bride and Groom. A flurry of waiters appeared, determined to replace the table setting, the cloth and the spilled drinks before the newly weds were able to take their seats.

"Bollocks!" she muttered.

Tony, the Best Man, stood up as Max and Millie arrived and asked everyone to quickly toast the Bride and Groom before the main part of the festivities began. Millie and Max picked up their champagne glasses and raised them.

"Max!" hissed Millie. "I can't drink this! How am I going to get away with it without anyone noticing and wondering why?"

"I hadn't thought of that," cursed Max quietly.

"Maybe I'll pretend to take a sip and once we sit down you can drink it for me?" suggested Millie.

She was surprised when Max hesitated to agree. "Max? Is there a problem? It will only be the one glass."

"Of course, there's not." Max chewed his lip, drank down half of his own glass, as Millie put her lips to her glass and pretended to drink. They sat down and the rest of the party followed suit. In the midst of this commotion, it was relatively easy for Max to swap glasses with Millie.

The entrée was served and Millie was surprised when she received the vegetarian option in place of the seafood she had ordered. She thought of it as a fortunate mistake because she had completely forgotten to change her food order to accommodate her newly discovered pregnancy.

When the main meal was served, she began to smell a rat, albeit one towards whom she felt gratitude. Her suspicions immediately fell on sisters-in-law. She concluded it was virtually impossible to hide anything from those two women.

With so much happening around them, it became difficult to keep track of details such as how many times the waiter was refilling their glasses of champagne. Max would take a drink of his, then notice Millie's glass was full again and drink some of that. Then he would find his own glass full again. Over the course of the meal, he managed to down more than four glasses…

(iv)

Leon and Ben had been working during the wedding and quietly slunk in the back during the meal. They hurriedly found their seats at the table with the rest of the Sun Hill crowd.

"What's up with Max?" asked Ben.

"He's in love!" exclaimed a clearly drunken Jo.

"He's drunk!" slurred Mickey, putting his arm around Jo in the guise of steadying her but only succeeding in highlighting just how far gone he was himself.

"And he's not the only one!" guffawed Jo, giving Mickey's knee a hearty slap.

"You've gotta love a Catholic wedding," said Stevie, raising her glass in the air. "Free flowing grog all night!"

Ben and Leon looked at the mayhem around them and shrugged. Little left to do but to join in.

"Hey Leon," said Sally, waving him towards her. "Look who's over there!"

Leon looked in the direction in which Sally pointed and groaned as he caught sight of Marion Brown.

"Is this the relentless man-hunter you were quaking in fear of after Thomas's Christening?" laughed Jo. "By the look of it you're more at risk from being hit on by me than by poor Mrs. Brown!"

Leon slunk into his seat between Mel and Nate and grabbed one of the glasses of beer the waiter had recently left there.

"Cheers," was the only comment Leon made as sculled his drink.

"Poor baby," cooed Mel, tussling Leon's hair with her fingers. "Just be thankful you're not Roger. He has to sit next to her for the whole evening!"

"Hey, don't look now, but I think the groom is headed our way!" a pleasantly sloshed Terry pointed out.

They saw Max making a slightly wobbly path towards them. He reached the table and pulled up a chair and pushed it in between Grace and Neil. Before he sat down, he pulled Grace towards him with one arm and kissed her cheek. This would have created only a minor stir had he not pulled Neil towards him with the other and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

Jo, Mickey and Stevie almost tumbled from their chairs in a heap, they laughed so much. Neil's face didn't give too much away, though he was clearly at a loss for words. Grace fumbled with the Bride's bouquet, which lay before her on the table.

"Did you catch the bouquet then, Grace? Good for you! You know, you've always looked to me like you were in need of a good going over," proclaimed Max, putting his arm around Grace again and giving her a supportive shake. "Ah look! Here comes my sister."

Everyone looked up, except Grace, whose eyes seemed to be burning a hole through the table cloth.

Mag was not quite as drunk as her brother, but she was definitely merry. Seeing there was no chair available, she plonked herself down on Jo Master's knee.

"You don't mind do you, Jo?" she asked.

"Not at all," replied Jo, squeezing Mag's thigh in a comradely manner.

"Hey, there. That's my sister you're fondling! You just watch yourself!" said Max with a wink at Jo.

"Now look here, little bro, I decide who can and who can't fondle me, thank you very much!" she said, snuggling into Jo. The two women laughed.

Max's hand flopped in a 'I give up' gesture. "Do what you want then. I just hope Paul doesn't see you."

"No chance of that, I've left him in charge of the kids!"

"He's a good husband to you, Mag. So much better than some of the other options you had. Do you remember Mr. Screw?"

Luckily Jo was quick enough to prevent Mag toppling off her knee backwards as she threw herself back and cackled wholeheartedly.

"All right, tell us. Who is Mr. Screw?" asked Stevie.

"He was one of Johanna's, not mine!" clarified Mag. "He turned up at our place one time to take Johanna out, walked into Mum's kitchen with slicked back hair, and shirt open several buttons too far and a rather large golden screw on a chain around his neck. Terrified poor little Maxie, didn't he, my love?"

"A gold screw?" laughed Jo. "Subtle!"

"Saw him as a bit of a role model, eh Maxie?" joked Terry.

"You're one to talk! From the description, that could have been you back then!" said Terry's wife, Helen.

"Slicked back hair? Imagine Terry with hair!" laughed Nate.

Helen piped up again, "Even then, he didn't really have that much to slick…"

Terry cut her off. "You know, you're not invited to the next work function,"

"Don't worry Terry, we understand. After all, it was the 70s," consoled Beth.

Mag gave her a look. "It was the 80s, Luv," she corrected quietly, although it was obvious she was miffed that Beth had added ten years to her age.

(v)

The laughter and merriment at the Sun Hill table went unnoticed by Marion Brown. She sat at her table staring into space. Only minutes before she had been accosted by Millie's Aunt Laura, the sister of her late husband. She and Laura had been sworn enemies during Thomas's lifetime, both vying for the position of Number 1 Woman in his Life. Marion was undoubtedly the winner, but this victory had done nothing to sweeten her relationship with her sister-in-law, who seemed determined to make life difficult for her. Her meals were never hot/ tasty/ interesting enough. Her clothes always had some miniscule crease or stain that Laura would point out in the presence of others. But, Laura was beloved by both her brother and her nieces, and she was good to them too, and Marion felt she had no option but to tolerate her.

She had been surprised, to say the least, when her hated sister-in-law had approached her just now, said she had seen Marion crying at the church and asked how she was. Marion replied that she was upset Tom was not there to see his eldest daughter married, he would have been so proud and happy. This led to them discussing the look he would have had on his face as he walked his daughter down the aisle and the speech he would have made. Soon their images of what would have been led them to various reminiscences about their dear husband and brother and before the two women knew it, the animosity between they abated. Before Laura had got up to return to her table, she and Marion had made a date to get together for afternoon tea. Marion was feeling dazed. In the space a couple of hours, her mourning for her husband had reconciled her with two enemies. She couldn't help but believe that Tom had had something to do with this. She blinked away a tear as she thought that even in death, her protective husband was determined to look after her.

In the midst of her reverie, her daughter slipped into the seat beside her.

"Mum?" Millie said, taking her mother's hand between her own. "You okay? I saw you talking to Laura. You didn't fight did you?"

"No, darling, everything's fine! We made plans to meet up."

"That's great Mum!"

Marion gently brushed a lock of hair that had manoeouvered itself out of place from Millie's face and smiled at her daughter.

"Darling, you know how much I love you and how proud I am of you, don't you?"

Millie threw her arms around her mother's neck and blinked back tears. At last, she had her real mother back!

"Thanks Mum," she choked.

"And your father…well, he'd be so proud of you too. In fact, wherever he is, he is proud of you. I think he's watching over us all today, the way he always did."

"I think he is too," a tearful Millie said softly.

"Where's your sister, by the way?" asked Marion.

Mille had a quick look around. "I'm not sure."

"Let's go find her, shall we?"

Mother and daughter walked towards the Sun Hill table, where Max and Mag were still seated. Max saw Millie and jumped up and put his arms around her.

"Isn't my wife beautiful?" he boasted.

Glasses were raised and there were loud declarations of agreement.

"Yes, yes, thank you all," said a slightly flustered Millie. She had never seen Max this drunk before.

Mrs. Brown was in such a positive mood she overlooked Max's inebriation because of his obvious devotion to her daughter.

"Max dear, have you seen Annie?" she asked.

"Did you check the broom closet? Ow!" Max found himself at the receiving end of a sharp kick from Millie's foot. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to take him at his word and go and find Annie and Will (whom Millie noted was absent) in a passionate clinch in the cupboard.

Marion hadn't heard about Annie and Tony at Thomas's Baptism. "Why would I look…?"

"Max was joking, Mum. Oh look they're bringing out the desserts. Better get back to the table."

Millie grabbed her husband and led him back to their seats. On the way she was accosted by Johanna and her husband Malcolm. Johanna looked at her brother with concern.

"Max, are you okay?"

Max only smiled in response.

"I think he's drunk," Johanna's husband opined.

"I don't see how he can be," said Millie. "He's only had, oh, two glasses of champagne, with food. He doesn't get drunk that easily." Millie didn't mention the other glasses of champagne Max had drunk on her behalf.

Malcolm and Johanna looked at each other. "Max had champagne? Oh god!"

"What?" demanded Millie. "Why's that so bad?"

"It's a Carter quirk," explained Johanna. "We just can't handle the stuff for some reason. Sends us stupid."

"You should have seen Johanna at our wedding," smirked Malcolm with a nudge to Millie. For some reason, the memory delighted him.

"What do we do?" asked Millie. "We have to cut the cake and dance yet! And, oh god! The speeches!"

"Hmm, I say we get some food into him, and some coffee."

"They're not serving coffee yet."

Johanna took a deep sigh. "Take him to his seat. I'll go have a word to the kitchen staff."


	21. Conclusion The Reception Part 2

**A/N Thank you for reading, and extra special thanks to my reviewers xxx**

(i)

While Max was being sobered up at the bridal table, Roger returned to his seat beside Marion. He was in a good mood, having downed a couple of drinks for Dutch courage before his 'father' of the bride speech. He noted that his return didn't seem to register with Marion.

"You look like you're miles away," he said smiling.

Marion came out of her reverie and smiled back at him, "I was. Well, not so much miles, but years. I was thinking back to my own wedding."

"A happy memory, judging by the look on your face?"

"A very happy memory. It was the start of a wonderful life together."

"You must miss him dreadfully," Roger said sympathetically.

"I do indeed. Have you ever been married, Roger?"

"Yes."

"And did she…"

"It didn't work out," said Roger, cutting her short.

"I'm sorry to hear that," replied Marion.

"Don't be. I think it all worked out for the best. I don't think I'm cut out for relationships. Too set in my ways you see."

"I know what you mean," nodded Marion. "Ah, look. The Bride and Groom about to dance,"

They sat for a moment in silence and watched Max and Millie as they took to the floor.

"Do you ever get lonely, Roger?" asked Marion dreamily.

Roger looked uncomfortable. "Well, I…"

Marion laughed. "It's not a proposition Roger, just a question. Sometimes, don't you just feel like sitting down and having a nice cup of tea and a biscuit with a friend? Up until last week, Harry Carter was that friend for me. He'd help with a few chores around the house and then we'd chat. Good, honest friendship, without the slightest hint of him being after… you know. It was lovely."

"It sounds lovely," agreed Roger.

"But then he fell off my roof. I'm sure you've heard about that. And you've no idea how much I've missed him this last week."

"You know what," said Roger. "I'm pretty handy with a drill myself. So if you ever need anything done, or you've made a fresh batch of scones you need to share…"

Marion laughed again. "So, you only want me for my scones, eh? Thanks Roger, I'd like that. But, as long as you realise I'm not looking for anything more than friend?"

"Nor am I," he replied. He held out his hand to Marion and said, "Now, as Mother and stand-in father of the Bride, we really should be dancing. Would you do me the honour?"

Marion took his hand and stood up beside him. "I'd love to."

(ii)

All eyes were focused on the dance floor as Max and Millie took their first dance as Man and Wife. Millie hoped no one would notice how drunk Max was, although the coffee had gone some way to sobering him up. Was it her imagination, or was he swaying slightly? It soon became apparent to Millie that the best thing for her to do was to draw Max closer to her to hide the fact he was having a bit of trouble remaining upright. Luckily this was a remedy Max accepted willingly.

As the onlookers seemed genuinely touched by their display (as opposed to amused) Millie concluded that her cover up had succeeded.

Soon the rest of the bridal party was dancing beside them.

"What's wrong, Maxie?" said Mag as she and her husband Paul hurriedly danced over to her siblings and their partners.

"Max has had champagne," said Johanna, as Malcolm swirled her around.

"Oh, no," replied Mag. "Well, sorry Millie! There goes your hope of getting any wedding night action."

"Hey," protested Max. "I am here you know. And I'm not deaf."

"I suspect someone else might have had a glass or two herself," Paul said, chiding his wife.

"Ah, but in my case it works the other way. It makes you more likely to get some action tonight!"

"I don't want to hear this," complained Max. "Can we dance away from them now?"

"Yes," Millie and Johanna replied in unison.

The couples dispersed around the floor. Magda had noticed their discussion and danced with Harry towards Johanna to find out what had been said.

"Everything all right?" Magda asked her oldest child.

"It's fine, Ma, don't worry," Johanna said, as Malcolm swirled her away from them.

Magda pursed her lips in frustration.

"Come on Luv," consoled Harry. "Why don't you just leave things be and enjoy a dance with your old husband instead? You know it's been a while."

Magda grinned. "You may be old, but you still know how to cut the carpet."

"I think you mean 'the rug' my sweet," smiled Harry, as swirled his wife around in a way that put Malcolm's attempt to spin Johanna to shame.

It was at this point that Roger and Marion joined the dancers. The floor gradually filled up as the other guests took to the floor. Jo and Mickey spun around together laughing, Stevie and Smithy giggled and flirted as he twirled and dipped her, paying little attention to the actual music playing. Annie and Will crept back in and seamlessly took their place amongst the other dancers.

Neil reached out a hand to Grace, who accepted it and took to the floor with him. The relatively rocky number they started dancing to soon ended, only to be replaced by a ballad that could really only be danced to cheek to cheek. After a short period in which they both seemed to be looking for an opportunity to flee, Neil shrugged and took one of Grace's hands in his and slowly moved the other as if to request her permission to bring it to rest on her hip. She shyly consented. Soon any trepidation was forgotten and they moved gently in time to the music.

Various Sun Hill couples (including Max and Millie) came together on the floor to discuss this development.

"You see Grace and the DI?" Stevie said, reclining back as Smithy dipped her in towards the others.

"Bit hard to miss really," replied Jo. "They seem to be getting into the spirit of this song."

"I hope they don't start snogging on the dance floor," moaned Terry.

"You're such a romantic," retorted his wife. "Do you have any idea how many people meet their spouses at weddings?"

"Or have a quickie with a bridesmaid," interjected Smithy, nodding in the direction of Annie and Will, who had moved off into the shadows for a private moment.

"Speaking of which, Jo, here comes Max's sister," said Mickey winking at her.

"Hey!" exclaimed Max. He'd been keeping quiet as the effects of the champagne wore off, but was alert enough to be protective of his sister.

"What's up with you now, Maxie?" demanded Mag, seeing the frown on his face.

"He's worried I might make a move on you!" laughed Jo. "But surely, Max, you know your sister well enough to know she's only flirting?"

"Now, don't underestimate my willingness to try new things!" winked Mag.

Mag's husband Paul was at first troubled by the sound of this conversation, but once he'd had a good look at Jo, he decided that perhaps he should keep an open mind.

"Oh, the music's stopped," pouted Stevie.

"It's a shame Grace and DI Manson haven't realised that," Terry pointed out.

All eyes turned towards the unfortunate twosome, who continued to sway along to a gentle rhythm that was now only in their heads. Grace woke up to the fact first, and tapped Neil to bring it to his attention also. Their hands fell quickly to their sides and they moved back to their seats hurriedly, hoping vainly that no one had noticed what had just happened, but knowing too well from the sniggers and looks from the others at their table, that everyone had.

(iii)

The newlyweds were enjoying a moment of respite in the midst of the activities, sitting together at their table. Max was beginning to feel like himself again, and he put an arm around Millie. She snuggled into him.

"So, my love, was Mag telling the truth when she said you wouldn't be able to, you know, perform later, because of the champagne?" she asked reproachfully.

"No way! She was just teasing you. How would she know what I can and can't do in the department anyway?"

"Well, you seemed to be claiming before to know about what she does - or doesn't - get up to."

"Well, maybe I was joking too," he said, softly kissing her hair.

"Just as well," said Millie. "Because, judging from when I was expecting Thomas, pregnancy makes me feel especially...you know?"

Max's curiosity was clearly roused. "No, I don't know. Maybe you'd better clarify."

She whispered hotly in his ear, saying things that only a husband should be privy to.

Max gulped. "I see," he said shortly. "You know, no one would miss us if we just ducked out now..."

"Before the speeches? Before cutting the cake? I think they might!"

"Sometimes, Mrs. Carter, I think you think too much."

"Well Mr. Carter, I know of at least one night when I didn't."

"And when was that?"

"The night we conceived Thomas."

Max pulled her close to him again and grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"The luckiest night of my life!"

"Is it lucky to have a condom fail on you?" asked Millie.

"Maybe it didn't. I've been thinking that perhaps it was my fault."

"Ah! Finally a confession! Didn't you put it on properly or something?"

"More like I didn't take it off soon enough. I think it might have got a bit…lost."

"I see. Even then, I don't think it was down to you. I still think it was fate."

"You think fate saw how much you needed me?"

"Or perhaps it saw that you needed me. Or..." added Millie on sighting a weary toddler padding his way across the room towards them. "Perhaps it saw we both needed Thomas."

Thomas planted himself on his mother's lap and lay against her breast.

Max patted his son's head. "Well, let's hope Fate feels the same about Babies Two, Three, Four..."

Millie pinched Max's arm. Tony was tapping a glass with spoon to attract everyone's attention.

"Time for us to get back to our public." said Millie, as people returned to their seats.

"Okay, Mrs. Carter. Let's get it over with."

"And remember, no more champagne," ordered Millie.

"Of course not, what have I got to celebrate anyway? My life might as well be over, I'm a married man! Ow! Hey! That's spousal abuse you know?"

"Right, well, rather than ruin a good wedding, and waste all the money we've spent on it, maybe you can arrest me later?"

"Consider it done. I have just the pair of hand cuffs in mind to use too."

"Really?" purred Millie. "Lucky I brought along my asp then."

Max wasn't sure whether he should be excited or frightened the possible uses Millie could put her asp to on their wedding night. Still, he consoled himself, at least it showed that she was open to trying new things. Maybe what he'd heard was wrong and married life wasn't that predictable after all?

Once Magda had ensured Thomas was safely with his parents she returned to her seat and into the outstretched arms of her husband. She couldn't think of anywhere in the world she'd rather be than where she was; beside her husband, surrounded by her children, her grandchildren and friends of the family, both the newly acquired ones like Marion and those that had been with her since her own children were little.

"God had been good to us, hasn't he?" she said to Harry, clasping his hand.

"My darling, I suspect you might have done some of the hard work creating our family yourself, actually," corrected her clearly still besotted husband.

"I suppose I did," agreed Magda as she drew Harry's arm around her and surveyed her dominion with an even greater degree of satisfaction.

Although Harry might have appreciated a bit of praise for his own role in the scheme of things, he resigned himself that it was unlikely to be forthcoming.

Magda nodded her head in the direction of Max and Millie. "He's chosen well, you know. She will be a good wife to him."

"Well," said Harry. "If the Carter men are good for nothing else, they have a talent for finding perfect wives."

"Hmm, I can think of at least one other thing they might be good for," grinned Magda.

Max glanced over at his parents and noticed the loving interaction between them. A vision of himself and Millie at Thomas's wedding started to form in his head. Would they be as contented as his parents now appeared to be? His father met his eye and gave him a wink as if to welcome him to the joys of married life.

Tony started to speak. "I heard something very interesting today. Apparently, a few weeks ago, Max had a Stag Night. Now Max, Paul, Malcom, your dad and I were wondering, what happened to our invites? What exactly did you get up to that you didn't want us to see? I tell you what though, I can't imagine it would be worse than anything you and I used to get up to in our late teens. Remember the time we..."

Millie narrowed her eyes at Max and propped herself forward on her elbows, displaying her desire to listen really close to what was being said. Max was starting to believe that allowing that Stag Night had been one of the worst decisions of his life. But then he looked a Millie and saw that a grin was breaking through that facade of disapproval. Whatever he had done in the past, she had forgiven him for it. As he thought more about it, in actual fact, they had forgiven each other. She hadn't been entirely innocent herself, as he recalled. He wondered if Johanna was going to bring the stripper and the g-string up in her speech?

His attention returned to the tales of his youth that Tony was describing to all, including his mother, someone to whom he had really hoped that these incidents in his past would never be revealed. Avoiding his mother's glare, he turned to look once again at his new wife, whose face was alight with laughter. The twinkling eyes that met his own seemed to be spilling over with love. He put his arm around Millie and Thomas and slyly sneaked the other hand to Millie's belly to give Baby Number Two a pat. Whatever fate had in store for them, thought Max, with his and Millie's own little growing family, and the crazy mob of parents, sisters, in laws and friends surrounding them, it was very unlikely to ever be boring!


End file.
